A memento on masks

A little short piece I wrote a while back

The Jester watched as people passed in the crowded ballroom, masks lying abandoned on nearby tables. Although it was a masquerade, not many had actually followed through and worn their masks for more than three minutes.  A barrage of faces smothered the tables in frown and jeers, colors and sparkles, feathers and sequins. 

Although all the decorative masks were cast aside, the Jester noticed with slight amusement that each and every person was still wearing a mask. A mask of Bravery, of Happiness, of Pride. Each person in passing wore an invisible mask of emotions that kept them bordering on sane.  One woman the Jester passed had recently divorced her husband, yet was laughing and smiling with her friends. However, the mask of peace painted on her face didn't reach her eyes.

That was the thing about masks. They didn't cover the eyes, the most expressive part of the face. The holes that allowed the wearer to see also allowed people to see them. In the eyes of every laughing person was an underlying truth of boredom, pain, loneliness, sadness, fear.

A person can easily fake a smile, but when that mask is put up, the smile never quite reaches the eyes. A painted mask made of the most beautiful gems in the world seems worthless on the face of someone whose eyes scream to be freed.

Even the Jester’s beloved King wore a mask on most occasions. A mask that makes him “royal” and “proper”.  When duty constrains one to be polite, then a mask is firmly fitted and tied to the face it’s deigned to fix.  The Jester’s job was to loosen this mask, to make light dance in the ruler’s eyes.

And so the Jester ties on her own mask, and acts to her very best capability to keep her eyes honest and happy. Even when she is on the verge of a breakdown, she ties the solid mask to her crumbling face and steps into a curtsy, ever the fool.

Everyone wears a mask. But the eyes give them away.

-Kelsie