Wednesday, January 11, 2017

100 Words a Day 995

He drifted away from the dancefloor with the rest of the guests, last song ended, stumbling on account of the high he had achieved through the music, movement, alcohol, and fatigue. As he puzzled out the way to his hotel room, a metallic sheen caught his eye. It was the long, silvery dress of the woman he had danced with earlier. She drifted away from him. Her dress billowed slightly and he again felt its smooth, cool fabric on the palms of his hands. She looked at him from the threshold of the ballroom before slowly disappearing down the hall.

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