Veritas in Tempus
There are occasions and then there are experiences this one crossed over into both. A curly haired Helen Magnus was wearing a gown with a scarlet base, with white pearls sewn around the trim. There was lace covering the bodice which was repeated twice circling around the layers of the skirt that would fit in and be considered part of the high society in the 19th century.
She was guided toward the dance floor by a cohort who swirled her around elegantly in time with the music. The dance floor was beginning to fill with people as more arrived, hiding the delicate engraved flower pattern from the view of the guests on the overhanging balcony.
The only thing that gave this part away for not being in the 19th century was a grey receding haired man on an old style mobile phone; Will Zimmerman. He looked as though he had, had enough of his conversation; his face was getting redder as he got angrier. His pale fac