Dance with Death

By Anonymous

I would never forget that night. You were beautiful, dressed in your viridescent royal blue gown. My fingers curled in your hair and played with your pearl necklace as we partied and laughed, dancing the night away under the serene full moon.

“Ah, I can’t wait to relive that night with you!" I cried. "Now tell me, darling, don’t I look positively dashing in this tux?”

“Why yes, of course, you do!" she smiled, ever so lovely, ever so ethereal.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart? Now come, you must change. I hope you don’t mind me helping?”

I slipped on her old, royal blue gown, draping on her crumbling pearl necklace.

“Oh, dear… it appears I need to get you a new dress and a few accessories,” I tutted, dismay washing across my face. Ah, to see a beautiful dress ruined by time…

“No, my sweet, it’s quite alright. It still matches me well, no?” she grinned.

“Naturally! Everything looks alluring on you.” I twirled her, the moth-eaten dress releasing clouds of dust.

“Well, shall we get to the party? We wouldn’t want to run late.”

“Of course!” I smiled and took her bony, skeleton hand in mine, leading her to the dimmed lights of the dance hall.

The lights flickered on, revealing a glorious scene. Skeletons, propped up in every pose and in every place imaginable -- dancing, laughing, drinking.

“It's such a wonder to see everyone here, right darling?” I said, cupping her jawbone. “Now come, let us dance once more!”

I smiled, leading my beloved into a twirling, swirling dance, this macabre scene illuminated by the moonless sky.

Little by little, the heavens start to cry for the man and his dance with death.