Beautiful and Damned

We don our finest bling for the evening. A little shy of awkward turns of conversation,cold shakes of hands, bubbling with curiosity. Many friends and enemies are going to rise up from the ashes. Their faces will hint of familiar stories, painted in strange smiles. They will bob heads, hug, kiss, finger, carress, stab, itch, pinch. And we will too. It will all turn into a magical battlefield. Some will wear gold, some diamonds, some beads. Some new haircuts, some thinning hairlines, some greys, some shiny bald. Some wives, some lovers. Some heels, some flats. Dresses, ties, saris, cravats, sherwani will speak of wins and losses. The game we had abandoned will liven up this evening. And we will be in it, setting our targets, choosing strategic positions, mapping friend and foe. Old loves will turn sour. Fadeloves will be brightened. Hates will turn fuschia. We will tap our feet and bob our heads. For it is not often that we get to live the old times.

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