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Creative Story : A Short Story

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“It’s been decided,” Taylor hissed with a clenched jaw, “Now hurry up, we’re almost inside.”
“Ignoring it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. The village was my home.”
“No it wasn’t and they weren’t your family. We are,” he snapped, glaring at her, “And speak no more of it, or I will tell Mother.”
Lorenna’s back tensed as if that woman didn’t try to beat that very idea out of her head over the past ten years.
“Claire…”
“Be quiet Mary,” Lorenna scolded, pushing her off, refusing to look at either of them.
“Next!” The ticket man shouted signaling it was their turn. They stepped forward as Taylor handed him their invitation. The man impatiently waved them forward without another glance. “Next!”
Lorenna only made it into the foyer before she assaulted by a pungent stench. Covering her nose, she balked at the sight before her people were shoving their way past each other to get into the ballroom. She glanced back at the door where the line was still growing outside.
A brief breeze made her realize she was suddenly sweating as if in the afternoon sun without shade or wind. The massive chandeliers and the oversized candelabras along the walls that threatened to singe the hair of anyone who got too close, made it worse. To her dismay, she realized the smell was coming from the crowd around her.
“Not what you expected?” Taylor asked as she took a step back, shaking her head in disgust. He bellowed in laughter, throwing his arm over her shoulder, “I warned you this wasn’t going to be like

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