Hues Of Spring

• Liam Tannoury, Grade 10
• Short Story
• 2022

The relenting heat of that late spring afternoon warranted a change in clothes, men and women donning respectful formalwear, brushing that fictional dust and grime off their elaborate blazers, firmly tugging the lining over cologne-polluted button-up shirts and skin dresses. Latecomers hurriedly pushed open the opaque tempered glass doors, stumbling on their pointed shoes and teetering heels, scuttling along in front of the anxious ceremony host. The wide swing of the greased hinges in the embroidered wooden door revealed an extravagant banquet hall sewn to the crevice with gentle candle light and a mellow array of glossy chandeliers, softened by clouds of white cherry blossom plumes hovering above tables. Guests, who were already seated, impatiently sighed at the hopeful opening of the door, once more admiring the elegant, rich dishes upon the silk tablecloth, pushed away from the oak dance floor, soon to be curtained by flowing dresses and incandescent smiles. Minutes later, the lights dimmed, and the doors withdrew from their stoicism to unveil the joyful flutters of the groom and brides’ parties, accompanied by selfless, endless, bombastic middle-eastern drums. Fleeing from distant, hostile lands, these connective encroachments of song and dance smuggle fragments of culture into the lives of those painfully attached to hollow, distant tankards of country. Many followed the party onto the dance floor, voices drowned in the tremor of viscous, rebelling tones, a secretive enjoyment spanning across the grins of those faces on the polished platform. Within that quartz hall of chorused forgiveness, toasts were raised, vows affirmed and appetites content with the indomitable soul of that euphoric reception, not a doubt in mind.