The Masquerade

On a certain night I decided to attend a masquerade ball. It was a momentary

whim, some wishful thinking, and thus when I arrived at the entrance to the grand
mansion in which it was hosted the guards gave me rather serious looks. I had no
invitation and they did not know of my name. The visages they wore all matched, stony
and menacing. To those gargoyles I showed my mask of charming grin. With that fearless
nonchalance the immovable men were moved and my entry was allowed. The atmosphere
inside was festive, but nervous. Obscurity liberated the partygoers from their identities,
but also forbade them from trusting.
I waded through the mingling crowds in the periphery of the great dance hall.
There the men and women wore disguises of all sorts. Some displayed extravagantly the
faces they wish were their own. Others showed the images of the self which could never
ordinarily be seen. That crowd shied away from me for fear that they would be forced to
accept me (and themselves) if they approached. After a time I came out onto the edges of
the open floor where pairs cavorted about in time to the music wafting downwind from
the orchestra. Along that edge circulated the single girls and the men seeking their hands.
I spied at once one such lady of greater beauty than the rest and swam to her through the
current of people.
I presented myself to her and asked for the honor of a dance. The mask she wore
was grey and expressionless, but foolishly the eyes were opened too large so that I could
peer easily into those portals. I could see at once the turnings gears of her judgement, her
wariness and her boredom. To dispel her attitude I quickly changed my own mask from
that confidant smile into meek worry. No longer feeling an overbearing pressure, she

consented. I led her into the center of the hall and we whirled about with the other
pairings. Over the course of several dances her attitude toward me improved even more,
but I quickly found myself bored and disconnected. What had I desired in the first place?
After parting ways with her I slunk back into the shadows once again. The party,
my whim, had been ruined and my sudden malaise would not lift. Just as I had decided to
leave, I collided with a man hurrying through the hall. He apologized profusely, blaming
himself for his haste and I recognized him as the owner of the mansion.
Dear guest, have I knocked your mask from your face or how else have you
come to lose it? I would happy to have a servant bring another for you. He said to me. I
slowly shook my head and replied with a forgiving smile,
Worry not, my mask still lingers where it always has.