I counted my way around its emptiness with measured paces. Seventeen to the bathroom alone, down the Hall of Mirrors, mirrors I chose to camouflage my hiding place; while I watched our communications disintegrate. It was on that spark-filled and tempestuous night of misunderstandings, and the misunderstandings proceeded with vigor from the salon de la paix to the salon de la guerre and back again, ‘till it was ‘off with your head’. I had feelings about that place. It reminded me of Versailles. I was Louis and she was Marie Antoinette. Like the fated couple, we were bound to make trouble. It’s funny because I always thought we were the opposite ends of the same stick. We fascinated and beguiled each other, but looked for weak spots and strengths, always trying to feel each other out. I guess it was just a primitive courtship dance, the cosmic dance of life, with its inherent ups and downs. Love and war. Same thing? Raging emotions in opposite directions.
Posted on: Sun, 04 Jan 2015 05:14:42 +0000
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