Remember My Dance!

This is dedicated to Lysi, to whom I told the story first but not as  well.


She knew the end was near, she was fading, no longer in the springtime of her life. Soon she would have to turn the spot light over to her nemesis while she literally faded away. She wouldn't go with a whimper.

 She was known for  hosting a grand ball once a year, and this years would be the most impressive yet! Her going away ball! She planned  every detail with great care and thought; from the outdoor garden and patio she rented, to the orchestra; from designing her gown, to the refreshments. Her crowning moment would be her dance!!

 She WOULD be remembered.

The day of the ball arrived. She  had double checked her preparations.  All was ready.
It would be a  very late afternoon into the late night affair. She wanted to encompass the deep blue sky dotted with fluffy white clouds that would slowly change with  the bleeding colors of a setting sun and  a  brisk, chilly, starlit night with a full ,orange, harvest moon playing peekaboo behind wispy clouds.

The outdoor patio was covered in a textured gold carpet. The Orchestra was at the ready and expertly playing delightful background music. Though that would change as the dancing began. She had hired this talented group for their avante gard musicality.

Her guests had arrived and were enjoying  delectable treats and a mixture of spiced cider, pumpkin tea and wines. Various entertainers such as jugglers, fortune tellers, magicians kept her guests entertained while they awaited her entrance; which entrance was timed to command the most attention, have the greatest impact.  That highly anticipated moment finally came as the sun started to sink. Her man servant announced her and, as she glided through the double french doors onto the huge patio readied for dancing, there was an audible gasp!!

Even at her mature age she was devastatingly  beautiful!  Thick chestnut tresses with hints of copper fell into curly waves down the middle of her back and framed her heart shaped face. Her emerald eyes sparkled and still retained a mischievous glint that made you think she was up to something and  that you wanted to be apart of it ,whatever it was. Her face seemed flawless, defying resolutely the truth that  this would be her last grand ball this year, her last opportunity to be a queen before she faded away.  Her lips were full and painted scarlet and wore a defiant smile.

If her face was the work of art,  her gown was the frame that did it justice.  It was magnificent! She had designed it to look like fall leaves draping over her shoulders, caressing her bodice then swirling around the skirt as if they were wind tossed. The colors subtly blended into each other almost iridescently. Leaves of  scarlets, amber's, topaz were artfully sown onto a sheer sweeping chocolate brown skirt and bodice. Delicately embroidered throughout the gown, to match her eyes, were forest green emeralds so that as she moved it seemed she was clothed in fluid movement  of  woods, leaves and jewels. Finishing the look,  she wore on her feet, glossy deep brown ballet shoes, simple, understated.

She stood for a second taking in the admiration, knowing she was  the subject on every one's tongue.  Then she gracefully mingled, she would not take to the dance  floor until the night had fallen like a curtain, instead, letting that setting sun shine on her with the last vestige of warmth and flattering glow. She glided from group to group, chatting little, listening  a lot. She enjoyed the varied musical pieces,  tapping her toe to many. She enjoyed the men and women who clamoured to gain a few precious moments with her. She was giddy but not from sipping  wines but of sipping the flattery, the sincere declarations of admiration, even love.

As dusk gave way to night, a chill in the breeze stroked  the faces of the attendees while  the moon, huge and orange, as expected,  cast the glow of a million candles, adding to the torches under glass lamps  that lit the  perimeter of the dance floor.

It was time for her dance. As if an unseen hand swept everyone off the dance floor, it emptied.  All of a sudden the music changed. No longer light and delightful, the orchestra put all their talent into playing her  music: haunting, mysterious yet sentimental. It made guest after guest want to  shiver  in an unsettled feeling of unease, while at the same time, feeling melancholy and teary eyed.
Her guests had become her audience and  were hypnotised by the music. With that breeze whipping her hair around her face, like branches, and causing her cheeks to blush rose, she gracefully glided out to the middle of the floor. There was a soft spotlight now over the floor. The material of her gown swishing, skittering as if the leaves were real and being scattered across the ground she started moving, swaying, dancing. Her arms uplifted to the sky, eyes closed,  a bittersweet smile on her lips, she danced  like a younger version of herself. She danced putting  all her heart, her angst, her emotion into every movement.
The music had textures, layers, drama and captivated the imagination of listeners.
The dance had textures, layers, drama and captivated the hearts of those watching. and so it continued as if time stood ...


 Still -the music cast a spell,
 still- the audience could only watch in awe,
 still -she danced gracefully telling her life story for the last time.

The music flowed quietly then crescendoed with the chapters she danced. Her movements were mesmerizing. That life story she told through those movements enthalling her audience.

Suddenly it was over. The story and the dance ended!  She collapsed in a heap. Spent, exhausted, emptied, with head bowed, she put her arms in front of her palms down on the dance floor allowing them to brace her. She had given everything. She had held nothing about her life back. Collasped as she was, she looked  almost as if someone had raked  leaves in a huge pile. There was deafening silence. There was no music. There was no applause, as if what she had danced, what the guests had witnessed, was too sacred for applause.

Then there was movement from the far side of the dance floor, someone was coming!  Guests parted to let  a woman through. The Hostess of this ball, wearily lifted her head to see who was approaching. When recognition registered, tears as silent as the room had become, fell from her eyes.

The woman entering was also stunning! She had an ice cold beauty, unlike the earthy beauty of the woman still in a heap on the floor.  She wore an equally magnificent gown in pristine white. Shimmering, as if embedded with thousands of diamonds, it clung to her body like skin. She had white hair. Not grey! not silver!  White, soft, like a blanket of snow falling  down to her waist. Like the gasp that greeted the hostess upon her entrance, now the silence was broken by a second gasp at this entrance. With eyes that were as grey as thunderstorm clouds and lips that shone pink, her face was equally beautiful but in a hard cruel way.

She walked confidently to the middle of the dance floor, and with a hint of gentleness reached her hand out to help lift the hostess to her feet. The hostess stood trembling, the tears stopped. She glanced around  the outdoor patio giving her guests a bittersweet smile then she gazed upon the face of the intruder, the uninvited woman.
The audience strained to hear the words spoken between them as their hostess calmly said, " I knew you would come."
       "Yes,"  the white beauty agreed, " it is time."
       " I thought you would at least give me  the rest of the night."
       " I let you finish your dance."  Then she offered grudgingly, "It was moving!"
       The hostess acknowledged the compliment with a nod, then looked up as something tickled her face. Glancing upwards, she saw snow falling gently from the night sky that had changed from chill and brisk to  something  colder, deeper. The Hostess, shaking her head, smiled in defeat.
         " I will announce you properly," she told her nemisis.
         Now it was the ice queens turn to acknowledge with a nod.
           The Hostess turned and called to her guests to gather around. With curiouosity and a bit of confusion they did her bidding.
            Then stepping out of the spotlight so the other woman could bask in it alone, Mistress Autumn quietly announced,
      " This is Mistress Winter, She will now be your hostess. I bid you farewell!' She turned to walk away but quickly, as if she forgot something, whipped around again and cried, "Remember my dance!"
             While the music started up again, and the guests surrounded Winter, Autumn slowly faded away as the snow continued to cover the dance floor.
JDB  12, Oct. 2011
☻please do not copy or reproduce without permission.