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Marie Antoinette's Last Dance
The crowd mutters and talks to themselves. The women are all dressed in beautiful, colourful dresses and the men were in their finest tailored suits. The french doors opened, and all noise ceased. Their heads turned as if influenced by some magnetic force. A beautiful woman appeared, dressed in an equally beautiful gown of smokey grey silk and black and white embroidery. In her hand was an intricate mask of different shades of grey swirls. Her name was Queen Marie Antoinette.
Marie and her husband glided to the middle of the dance floor. They clasped hands, the music swelled, and they began to dance that night. That night on Halloween.
Their dance was so enchanting, and so beautiful, that the lords and ladies couldn't help but watch as if in a trance. The dance was magical and dreamlike. It was perfect. And Queen Marie couldn't take her soft blue eyes off the eyes of her husband's.
Then the music got darker. It seemed like the tune and rhythm were trying to eat its way through your soul. Marie's eyes widened, and she and her husband danced faster, trying to outdo the terrible music. And then...it got quiet. Soft. The king turned to smoke and disappeared. As did all the guests. Marie sank to the floor, bathed in shadow, and cried.
Marie Antionette woke up in a damp cell. Her dream was awful and nightmarish. At first, she wondered why she was in a cell. Then she remembered. Today was the day. October 16th. Today was the day she would die.
The guards roughly shoved her out and into a wagon. They tied her wrists and paraded her around town. The peasants she had grown to care for wee chanting for her death. When they arrived at the town square, Marie Antoinette saw the guillotine. She trembled ever so slightly as she walked up to the platform. As she placed her head underneath the blade, Marie thought with all her heart that she would just live another Halloween to dance with her love.
The blade dropped. Marie felt a sharp burst of of intense, horrifying pain. Then she felt no more.
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This article has 1 comment.
This is very fiction. I don't know if Marie Antoinette really thought this, or loved her husband that much.