Soothing was the light that illuminated all things around me. I could almost hear its whisper upon form as silk upon skin. Here, it spread to all things, unveiled even the darkest corners, lavished vibrance upon the gloomiest of colors. Its source was the very nature of life itself, and life depended on this light.

I swung my leg over my silvery motorcycle which—not too long before rumbled with vitality—rested tilted and dormant. Nearly automatically did my hands put the keys in my pocket, remove the gloves and nestle them deeply in my coat, and pop the helmet off my head. I approached a set of chestnut brown double-doors and knocked briskly.

The hostess’s smile was broad and toothy, well-suited to her open face and wide eyes—seeming for all the world to express pure and simple joy as a smile was originally intended to—as she opened the door. I, too, smiled, but gently, reining in its full force.

“Heya R!” she greeted warmly, brushing a stray strand of wheat-colored hair from her face. “How ya doin’?”

“Quite well, thank you, Daisy,” I responded.

“We’ve all been waitin’ for you, y’know.” She crossed her arms in mock offense, her eyes wide and expression expectant.

“I always did like to be fashionably late.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Come on in.” Her hands beckoned me inside the building.

As I entered, my eyes roved over the guests of the party, some whose cheeks were already aglow with liquor. Only those who needed to catch their breath sat on the terrace overlooking the living room—the rest were spinning vigorously, twisting and turning about, their lively footwork declaiming the dance “polka.”

“Can I getcha anything? I can make you a pomegranate drink of some kind—I know how much you like those,” Daisy said above the chatter and clamor of the party.

“No thank you,” I replied.

“Aaalright, if you say so. I guess those fresh, juicy pomegranates will just have to wait,” she teased.

My only answer was a smirk.

“Make yourself comfortable! There are a few people here you might not know—but Felix and Celia’ll introduce you.” I nodded, a little doubtful. “If you’ll excuse me, I still need to bake a few things. I’ll be ready to party in a bit, though.”

“Of course.”

Again, my eyes voraciously explored the room. Vivid colors quickly spilled into my vision and were just as quickly swept away. Bright, beautiful faces greeted my sight, both familiar and not. Clasped hands bobbed up and down, and shoes popped up the moment they met the floor. All this was dictated by the quick beat of the music that emerged from the string quartet upon the stage. My foot eagerly tapped to it as I continued to observe.

Within a couple of minutes, the stringed instruments joyfully proclaimed their conclusion and the sea of dancing bodies suddenly stopped. Men bowed and women curtseyed, even without skirts, both with lips parted and chests heaving.

Two forms approached me—Felix and Celia—all smiles and breathless laughter. Celia rushed to me, her arms thrown open. Before I knew it, I was pinned in a wholehearted hug.

“R!” she exclaimed, chuckling gently into my ear. A faint aroma of vanilla wafted through the air.

“How goes it?” asked Felix, beaming.

“Tight,” I gasped.

“Oh! Sorry,” murmured Celia, releasing me quickly.

“Don’t mind me—I’m just teasing. You can suffocate me if you like,” I joked, a half-smirk stretching my lips. “How are you two?”

Celia gazed adoringly at Felix. He wrapped his long arm around her, drawing her close. Their eyes met, and their attention was lost. I could feel their world melting around them to faded blurs and murmurs until all that remained was them. I knew to leave them alone.

“Going on three years,” she reported, as if to Felix rather than to me.

“Admirable,” I replied politely. “Pardon me.” My words drifted away from their ears, as I knew they would, and I walked in some aimless direction. Sooner or later, I would find someone else to talk to, or perhaps Daisy would finish her baking.

“Ladies and gentlemen! The next dance will be a Viennese waltz!” called a voice above the hum of conversation. The strings began a more elegant statement, with flowing notes and eloquent pauses. Slowly, the floor began to fill with people.

“Wait!” called Celia. “We were going to introduce you to some friends!”

I turned to face the couple, concealed by the growing crowd of dancers.

“Don’t worry about it. I can introduce myself just fine,” I hollered back to them. “Go have some fun.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, I continued to walk away. It was not long before I ran into another person.

“Hey there, R,” greeted she. “Glad you could make it.”

“Thank you Elaine. You know I’m loath to miss any of Daisy’s parties,” I said.

“You mean you haven’t gotten sick of us yet? Man, you’ve got some fortitude.” Elaine grinned and gave me a friendly whack on the arm. “You’ve got a poem prepared like always, right?”

“Sure do.”

Suddenly, Elaine’s expression faded into solemnity. “Daisy probably doesn’t ever mention it, but, you know, her parties aren’t ever the same without you reading your poems at the end. It just seems like something’s missing if you aren’t here. Everyone knows it too.”

“Thank you.”

Her grin returned full force. “Aren’t you gonna dance or something?”

“Is that an offer?”

“No, but if you wanna dance I’d be happy to join you.” The mock indifference in her voice gave me my answer.

“All right. Let’s go. You lead this time around, while I get warmed up.”

Elaine and I melded into the rest of the crowd with only a little trouble, letting our feet synchronize with each other and then carry us wherever they desired. For a while we silently concentrated on dancing, but soon enough we were able to let our thoughts drift.

“How’s your brother?” I asked.

“Chay? He’s not doing too badly,” she replied. “Loaded with homework all the time, but otherwise okay.”

“Yes, homework can be quite a bitch.”

Without breaking step, Elaine stomped on my foot. I gritted my teeth against the pain, summoning all my will to keep in time to the music. A tinge of disappointment colored Elaine’s expression, as if she had wanted me to stumble.

“No swearing!” she admonished me. A child’s playful cruelty sparkled in her eyes.

“I deeply apologize. I had forgotten.” A moment later, I sent a look to the general vicinity of her feet and added, “That took some skill.”

Elaine grinned, quite pleased with herself. “Why thank you.”

I directed the conversation to its original track, trying to forget about my injured foot.

“So Chay is loaded with homework and you’re not?”

“Nope! I got all the nice professors.”

“Lucky you.”

“Nah, Chay is just really bad at choosing instructors.” Elaine paused a moment to lead us from colliding with another pair, then continued. “Hey, if you wanna say hi to him, he’s off on a walk with the guys. Said he’ll be back sometime later. Dancing isn’t his thing.”

“Thank you. I’ll be sure to talk to him when he gets back.”

After exchanging a few more words, the music ceased. As Elaine curtseyed with her invisible dress, I tilted my head.

“Oh, too cool to show proper ballroom etiquette, are we?” she remarked.

“No, just me,” I retorted, smirking. “Your etiquette was fine.”

Elaine grinned and threw a good-natured punch at my arm as a reminder to watch my mouth. She then turned away to leave.

“I’m gonna head off and find a partner for the next dance. You should do the same,” she advised over her shoulder.

“Did someone say ‘get another partner?’” interjected Daisy as she slid into my line of sight. “Well, R, don’t mind if I do!”

“Very well, I promise not to mind,” I responded. “As long as you don’t mind if I lead.”

“Go ahead!”

“Ladies and gentlemen! The next dance will be the polka!” declared the voice.

After listening carefully to the opening strains of the next song and marking the jaunty beat, I swept Daisy towards the outside of the crowd, which was already beginning to fill with people willing to meet the vigorous demands of the polka.

We raced around the dance floor as one, feet leaving ground the instant they met. Soon enough, it felt like we were barely alighting upon the floor. Many fellow dancers were left behind, only to be seen again moments later when we completed the track. Neither of us faltered in our flight, though quickly our breath came short through smiling mouths. The music’s pulse echoed through the room, pushing its way through the hardwood planks, up the walls, across the ceiling.

Countless times did we circle the crowd before the song ended and finally we touched ground once more. We stopped a moment to catch our breaths before curtseying and nodding.

“You’ve gotta dance with some of… some of my friends,” Daisy panted. “You’re good.”

“Thanks,” I replied, just as winded.

“Let me introduce you… to some,” she insisted, grasping my wrist.

Without a word, I allowed her to drag me along to the occupied seats. The next dance came and went as she took me to a group of friends. We met and greeted and passed time with idle conversation augmented by food and drink. I danced with a few before passing to another group to be shown to more partners. Very quickly I was led through the entire room, names and faces and voices all pressing themselves upon me.

This process became too methodical, too machine-like, with a stiff and relentless pace. Like thick oil I was squeezed from cog to cog, getting acquainted with each tooth of each gear and being extracted to somewhere else before I could so much as settle. I was being spread too thin.

“Pardon me,” I finally interjected, “I need some air.”

“Really? Oh, okay,” Daisy said, slightly startled and perhaps a little disappointed.

I nodded a polite farewell to the members of the current group and extricated myself. I struggled to keep my thoughts reined as my feet took me outside the building. The late afternoon breeze slowly carried the heat from my skin and clothes and made me aware of my throat and lungs once more.

Once more I was drawn to my motorcycle. It still rested, now cold, but somehow it seemed eager to gallop to the horizon and beyond, flying off the end of the world and blazing in the sunlight. But it was not time to leave. All the same, I seated myself upon it sidesaddle and drew my feet upon the engine.

For some time I sat uninterrupted, simply watching the leaves as they whirled by in a phantom wind like dancers. Finally, I released my hold on my mind. My thoughts ran amok, flitting and pushing and squeezing their way to the forefront. I allowed the chaos to consume my attention, causing my eyes to unfocus and my vision to blur, until—thankfully—nothing mattered. The weight of the names and faces and voices disappeared.

And then, the words to the poem simply sprung forth, uninvited but most certainly desired. I had told Elaine that I had prepared them already, but this was not entirely true. I had prepared for them, made myself ready to receive serendipity’s advice. Had I done otherwise, the words would be hollow and cold, lost to the bright light and orderly dances. Their definition would be their existence, expressing nothing but themselves. But how could I explain to her that which had no clear boundaries?

“Headin’ out already?” asked a familiar voice, breaking me from my meditation.

“No, just needed some air.” I turned to find Chay standing nearby, a lit cigarette held between two fingers. His friends were making their way to the chestnut double-doors, tossing their butts into the ashcan.

“Well, it’s almost nightfall. The party’s gonna end soon. Thought maybe you were done.” He took a drag from his cigarette mechanically and exhaled the smoke into the growing darkness. “But I guess you’re gonna go in and read that poem of yours, like always.”

“Of course. You have arrived just in time.”

“Good. Wouldn’t do to break the tradition now. When are you heading back in?”

“When you finish your cigarette, how about that?”

“Works for me.”

Neither of us spoke after that. Chay continued to smoke at a measured pace as if he had to set a clock by his exhalations. I could feel the oppressive machine closing in again, but I was in no more hurry than he. Soon enough, his cigarette was reduced to a stump. He walked to the ashcan, quenched the glowing orange brand, and flicked the butt into the depths. I followed him inside.

“… for having us here, we really enjoyed playing for this lovely crowd. Let’s have a final round of applause for the hostess, Daisy!” A chorus of clapping obeyed the voice and died down quickly to allow it to speak once more.

“Good evening folks, and we hope to see you again next time!” Again, the sea of hands roared its approval. The musicians began to clear the stage.

I wandered slowly around the room, still mulling over the words to the poem. The subdued buzz of evening conversation suffused the room. The string instruments nestled safely in their cases, ready for rest. Food and drink disappeared more quickly from the tables.

Finally, I was ready. My feet carried me up the steps to the stage and across its threshold. My eyes swept over the crowd, faces somehow made small and amorphous by my slightly higher altitude. The conversation continued until I heard Daisy’s insistent, “SHHH!” quiet all of the voices. I did not wait for them.

“Open embrace that dark, warm innocence
few dare trod on her sacred
red lips curved in
the smile but the frown
curls just as easily
all those shadowed
corners
hidden aspects that murmur
tears that slide freely through everything
hindered by nothing
eyes glitter and a blush
gently wreathed around
the
great
unknown.”

No longer did I feel the machine drawing closer. The words lingered, protectively wrapped around my mind. Automatic were my movements and responses to praise and criticism, for now I was being guided elsewhere.

The influence disappeared as the engine roared to life and the streets blurred.

Author’s Note: This is the first of three in the “Raven” series. To read the second, click here.

About the author

Meg is one who mourns for the loss when the Muse is absent; no other sorrow feels deeper. She is one who elates when the Muse is present, guiding her mind; no other joy feels greater. In short, Meg is a sucker.