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Dancing #39

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They danced and laughed together, healthy, exuberant and vivacious, and I could only fear for my own sanity. Why were these disturbances of vision happening to me? What drug induced them? The food or the ale? The smoke in the room? Too many questions, too many! The sooner this night was over, the better.
Helega, of course, witnessed my discomfort and she held me tighter, telling me as she led me back outside that whatever is wrong it would soon pass.
I was unconvinced.
The fear in my stomach screamed that it could never pass.
Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

2 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 3 months ago

    Poor fella’s having a Helegava time.... and I reckon that this might be just the whore d’oeuvres.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 3 months ago

    Now that's another good word "Helegava" and "whore d'oevres" conjurs up no end of images...

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