What a jolly few weeks I’ve had at the Butterfly Ball. The Cyberians invest so much time and care in preparing their wonderous masks. I’ve seen muttons dressed as lambs, debt collectors dressed as engineers, married people dressed as bachelors – and even several perverts dressed as priests.
Most of the fun goes on in private booths but there are some brave souls who conduct their affairs in the public areas. Some even perform on little raised platforms or jossle for space on the main stage.
A favourite game is to arrange to meet a fellow Cyberian at a certain time and place only to disappear at the last minute with someone with a nicer mask, chariot or castle. I met a charmingly cruel Diva who had taken exquisite care in getting a poor fool totally besotted – and then did this splendid vanishing act. He spent ages looking for her behind the curtains, under the couches – even at the bottom of the indoor heated pool.
But don’t worry Ma – as a well brought up lady I haven’t involved myself in any of these silly games. I spend most of my time observing the folly and only occasionally accepting a glass or two of shockingly expensive wine.
I did have my eye on one seemingly nice gentleman but I think the whole affair got the better of him.
He was last seen blogging away nonsensically, suffering from an extreme case of gender and identity confusion.
All my love to you and Papa