That night, in particular, withstands the tainting merge of memories. For I am caught in between forgetting that it had ever happened and forging a recollection. Until the flooding nostalgia takes me under... starting with the aroma. The overbearing fragrance of cigarette exhaust, imported spirits, and flowery musk. A fog that came over me, clouded my better judgment, leading me to the reckless. There was dancing, of course. The heat radiated off each individual body. Leaving a semi-permanent flush to the cheeks of all who bore witness to the shenanigansthat the pale moonlight exposed.
The music was so deafening that even idle chatter began to take on a sort of rhythm. And there was laughter. And the beam on the faces of all attendees had no code. As the night wore, the tempo of the atmosphere accelerated. A bloodshot bombshell found her way into the swimming pool. Even the colored waiters couldn't help but throw their heads back in pure hysteria. Heeled feet bore wounds, though ignored nursing for the present moment. The slightest crack of dawn sent crowds crawling back into their European automobiles. The glitter faded as swiftly as a bat of the eyelash. In a few mere months it seemed that the glitter had faded for eternity.