JoycelynSiew

 Dust drifts lazily in the sunlight streaming through windows that had not been cleaned in decades. They swirl, little spinning kaleidoscopes; and I twirl with them through the house, my nimble feet kicking up more dust to join in my dance. I imagine this used to be the ball room. A chandelier hangs from the ceiling amidst carvings of vines. The candles are gone now, replaced by cobwebs which hang from the branches, mimicking the graceful curves of the chandelier and the glass beads which dangle down, catching the sunlight. As I sway to the beat of my heart, I fancy seeing shadows of the past swirl around me. Ladies in their dresses, being