For Whom Do You Dance? .:Unbirthday Prose:."At last the party is finally over," says the weary wallflower boy, gazing boredly upon the empty ballroom and the teacups drained of all their drops.For Whom Do You Dance? .:Unbirthday Prose:. by Sapphire-X-Dreams
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Alas he is the sole manservant to his mistress, so the clean-up and the take-down are all left to him.
He passes a glance upon the window, and a confused sky, poised somewhere between twilight and daybreak, winks back at him.
Then suddenly a guest, fully-clothed in wickedly smiling jubilance, places a hand upon the wallflower boy.
"Come and join the dance, sweet boy, dance away your cares and responsibilities."
"I'm working now, Sir, and my mistress would be upset to find me idle," Wallflower replies, stacking teacups and clearing away the cakes.
"The day is short, but the hours are many, and you really have no notion how delightful it will be."
"The party is over, Sir," Wallflower says, "now please leave."
The guest empties his pocket of a kaleidoscope, and holds it to the boy's eye while whispering charms and persuasions.