22.12.09

crossing of two paths 5

He walked out from the masquerade ball panting. Sweat dripped from his forehead and streamed down, wetting his collar. His back was all wet. Blood starting gushing out from his thigh’s wound, but the black-coloured pants covered it up pretty well. There were a few droplets all over the dance floor, but too insignificant for anyone to realize. He stretched out his hand towards the park bench outside to support his own weight. Foam started to gather in his mouth.

Who was that guy?
He danced so well...
That was a breathtaking smile!!
Does anyone know who that was?


And so he walked out into the night, without anyone knowing who he was. He took off his mask, and lifted it over the trash can, ready to throw it away. He hesitated, and let out a sigh as he stared at the mask.