The Silent Party

Occasionally, when I come home from work and before I open my door, I will hear the most disconcerting sounds.  They frolic down the hallway, rambunctious and invisible.

I heard voices, as fragile as silver thread, embroidering the air with affectation and flippancy.  I heard laughter, soaring and birdlike, responding to witticisms that I missed as I tried to find my keys.

There was the sharp protest of glass tables, as jewelry accidently scraped against their surfaces (a sound I know well).  There was the intimate, private rustling of silken sleeves and dresses that dripped with sequins and impudence. 

In equally soft undertones, whispered asides were exchanged like rings – engraved, golden secrets.  These sounds were like dolls – tiny, delicate and perfectly formed – and they winked at me through the keyhole.

By the time I had finally untangled my keys, unlocked my door and burst into my apartment, I was full of questions, hoping for an introduction and afraid that I had arrived too late.

But the voices had stopped, the tables were cleared away, and the party was silent again.

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11 responses to “The Silent Party

  1. One of these days you'll open that door, and someone will hand you a flute of champagne and draw you into the party.Could happen.Are you arriving properly coiffed and attired?They'd never embarrass you or allow you feel to feel underdressed, and so melt away instead

  2. What a wonderful entrance you have.

  3. I wonder what the cats in the paintings on my walls do while I'm gone… nap, probably.

  4. One time, when I still had Sophie, I came up the stairs. She and Buz were both sitting by a corner of his cage–she on the outside, he of course in–and they had very guilty looks on their faces. I swear they'd been talking about me. Were your ears burning?

  5. I am in Love with your photo collection there.

  6. That is so cool and original! Just like you. 🙂

  7. lauowolf – well, at the end of a rough day, I confess that I sometimes arrive at my door somewhat disheveled. I can't always vouch for my tiara being on straight.
    Emjay – I make a wonderful entrance, too!
    LM – maybe not! Wouldn't it be wonderful to come into a room full of invisible purrs?
    JP – guilty animals – pah, they bring their cute game on and they know they'll be forgiven! And no, my ears were not burning – the ladies probably had something more interesting to discuss.
    Lavender – these pictures show only the smallest fraction of the pictures in my apartment!
    Alex – thanks; but it makes such perfect sense, doesn't it? I can't believe all of those expressive faces would be content to be silent forever.

  8. This is really incredible, Aubrey. It should be made into a movie. And I just love the paintings – I don't recognize them, but they sure do have personality.
    Amazing how they can have more fun in two dimensions than we can have in three.

  9. Oh, I just love this — photos, photos of photos, and the whispered secrets. What a pleasure it must be to enter this party, even if it is silent by the time you arrive.

  10. What a very nice study in flash non-fiction–the short commentary punctuated by the images was well executed as usual, Aubrey. (As usual, I am interested in the form the writing takes), but the content readily lends itself to the form and we are interested in your most elegant content to your most mundane.

  11. You, my dear, are the next Oscar Wilde. Everything I read here is pure poetry.

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