20 The Masquerade

The lights above my head illuminate the dance floor, and the light and ambiguous dance music encircles the men and women like a soft and smooth ribbon. I took Frade's hand and was nervous because I hadn't danced with a man in a long time. Even after I married Ron, he rarely took me to parties like this.

"Follow my steps, slowly!" Frade pressed against my back. His whisper, caught in the dance music, floated into my ear like a thin cotton wool. One of his hands caressed my lower abdomen, and even the slightest touch from him made me feel like an electric shock. My arms were immediately covered with bumps.

I'm slowly getting back to the way I felt when I went to prom in college. A yellow light lingered for a few seconds on Frade's half-masked face. I looked up at him. On the other side of the mask were his distinct features.