Carnivale Dreams: Spirit of the Festival by Mistress Simone

Simone and I have been acquaintances for a long time now and the other day, she gave me a story of hers to read over and enjoy.  I did and now that she's officially published it on her blog, I'm uploading it here as well.

Hope you guys enjoy Simone as much as I do!

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Carnivale Dreams: Spirit of the Festival


A Bella & Honey Fantasy written by Miss Simone


Chapter 1


You sit on your balcony, listening to the rhythm of the drums as people dance in the streets. The thump of the music is hypnotic, forcing you to sway, even when you aren't in the thick of it yourself. All your life you've dreamed of Carnivale and you have finally make the pilgrimage to enjoy the warm weather and bawdy sights.  You've only been in your hotel an hour, but excitement and curiosity are urging you to get out and explore. The music and party atmosphere down below your balcony tugs at your soul despite your exhaustion - And nothing tugs greater than the glorious Carnivale queens who strut down the streets like painted goddesses for all the world to see.


Finally, the watching and listening become too much.  You grab your camera and head downstairs into the streets to get a closer look of the beautiful creatures and their fantastically elaborate costumes. 


The dancers strut to the beat of the make-shift bands, calypso music like an infectious indulgence. One of them walks by you, favoring you with a wink as you snap her picture, then blowing you a kiss as she dances away with the parade.  You laugh and wave, entranced by her lust for life and joy of the celebration. After snapping a few more pictures you walk along to catch some of the sights, your steps in time to the beat of the heavy drums thundering away. Your favorite dancers have expressions of rapture on their face, clad in gold and silver jewelry as well as bright peacock-like feathers.  They even seem to have the proud posture of the alluring birds, always ready to receive the attention of onlookers.


Many people pass by you and they are decked out in costumes as well.  They wave at you and you wave back, enjoying the spectacle.  Most of the vendors are also in costume and the exotic scents of their foods lure you to sample the local edibles.  The trinkets and other wares are just as rich and exotic as the foods to you, all of it becoming a kaleidoscope of culture you’ve never experienced before.


A little girl smiles at you as she walks by, motioning for you to come closer.  When you bend to her level, she bestows a shiny novelty necklace upon your neck. The symbol on the pendant looks like some sort of glyph you don’t recognize but you thank her by giving her a few coins for candy.  As she skips off down the street, you glance down at the glyph pendant again.  It is a stylized B that you assume stands for Brazil.  Despite feeling cheap, the look of the detail in the design shows some true artistic work.  The dazzling emerald color twinkles in the light of the setting sun. 


You decide to hunt around and find out more about it - perhaps it is a symbol of Carnivale you aren’t familiar with.  As you continue walking around, you fail to see it on any banners, yet someone grips it and turns you to them as you stumble around the market.


 "Ah, so you've come to Carnivale," an older woman says as she inspects your necklace. The glyph on your pendant is tattooed upon the rich creamy caramel skin of her lower arm.  Age has given her laugh lines around her eyes and mouth and her hazel eyes twinkle with good humor. Behind her confident smile, light wrinkles and eyes full of wisdom, you can see glimpses of a young beauty who once haunted men's dreams.  You glance at the sign above her little table and see the third eye symbol.  She is obviously some sort of medium.


 "Oh yes!" You tell her enthusiastically. "The dancing and music are very beautiful!”


“Carnivale is a magical time,” she whispers to you, eyes glancing sideways as if she’s sharing a fabulous secret.  “It brings out everyone’s true self and unshackles fantasies so they can be made real.”  Her words hang heavy in the air like the notes of the music of the parade a few streets away.