Carnival Night

The breeze off the water brought forth a swirling mist of promise. A promise for the desires of the night. A promise to be fulfilled from all the nights and days of toil that came before when last the lights and masks were donned. The fleeting mist rose and danced upon the air as it found the way to my naked cheeks, my own mask laying snugly over my eyes with gentle sweeping feathers on it's crown. They flowed as easily as the mist, bound only by the very same mask that gave the illusion of bondage. Where the feathers anchored, my freedom flowed. For the Carnival called upon mask for freedom. Freedom from the mask we all wore in the light of day, the mask we donned for others, the mask of our words, the mask of ourselves as others knew us to be.

These masks of every shape and size were our wings and symbol. A sign laid bare to the night, chains broken, souls freed, and inhibitions scattered. All walked not in obscurity, rather in a state of clarity reserved only for their truest self. Showing raw desires and nobility of spirits without the need or care of the trappings of the world's order. 

The night burned with the sounds and colors of fire given extraordinary life for moments at a time among the stars and flowing clouds. The fireworks serve as a backdrop to the rolving bands of music making the rounds amidst the chatter of mask goers. Drink, food, and flashes of carnal whims assaulted the senses at every turn. Desires run rampant on the endlessly longed for carnival.

They streamed from everywhere around me. The night was alive, nowhere was deserted or dead. No, not this night. My stride was strong and purposeful as all at the carnival, at least those left undulled. Mine were sharp and eager with the punt up desires, fond memories of the last.

Too strong and eager sadly. My mask did not hide my smile, only slightly different from so many others this night. My heart beats faster, stronger, for what I desire. So many willing, always on carnival night, but one does have to be decerning. At least for the first of the night, the first is always the sweetest, the most intense and memorable. 

Finally, one worth my fancy is found. The scent fills my nose, tickling my all too sharp senses and calling forth the strings of deep excitement from within. I make my approach and soon enough we both make clear our desires. A lonely corner quickly finds company. No more can the explosion of passion be withheld, a single burst of energy gives way to sweet satisfaction, denied for far too long.

A lifeless shell of a body falls. So pretty and eternal in the moment of death. A naked blade covered by blood is wiped clean. The nagging desire demands more. Truly I do so love carnival night. These masks set us free.

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An entry for the grim list 2019, one down 30 to go. Don't know if I will make it, but I'm going to try. Feel free to comment and like or even take up the challenge of the grim list yourself. ;)