you can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style

the whole room, all of downstairs, was ablaze with the whir, swoosh, whir of the crowd, and the lights, blue, black, white reflected wild in the bulbous eyes of the dragonfly as it beat its wings, hovering above the stage, deeper, deeper into the feeble smiles of the 2 a.m. hour. the wings beat a light wind, broken by a high-pitched laugh, as everyone hung their heads, too goddamn lost to let themselves travel. some of the lucky let themselves plunge, the lucky and the damned, and their hearts thundered and swelled, staring into the eyes of the dragonfly, reflected in acoustic mirages.

there was a weak fire in the ironingroom. the servants were circled and solemn, face to face. the dog let out a howl. the entrance of the castle was cast in swarthy shadows. it was a long time ago. and beyond the servants quarters, in seven oddly toned rooms of the abby, the masquerade ball commenced. in the seventh room, black, with the tall, narrow windows danced the prince. and down below, a strange figure, solemn and pale, wandered through the locked abby. in the midst of the revelry, the stranger entered each room, until he found the last, black room. when the prince confronted the stranger, he fell brilliantly to his death.

the stage was being cleared. oscar and i had spoken briefly earlier, but he was now loud and drunk. i was with a friend, sue, the girl with the anne sexton poem tattooed between her breasts and neck, wrapping around her body. violet and oscar had both known her, though not very well. i told sue that we should go talk with violet.

"you remember sue."

"of course. how are you?"

violet was on stage, tinkering with her keyboard.

"what are you up to?" i asked.

"i'm going to meet oscar after i clean up, and we're going to head to keith's." you guys should come."

"ah, love to, but it's late and i'm tired. talk tomorrow."

she cast a look like a soft yellow ray reflecting imaginary sapphire against the windshield of a somewhat metallic car.

"bye."

i knew that oscar was scheduled for surgery, and she wanted to spend time with him, and i also knew that i smelled a velvety perfume emanating from a milky skin. and so we walked out, into an illuminated island of spring clouds and doomed deciduous trees, carving the landscape into a lazy elysium, where i looked forward to a small, chilly room.