“Where do you think you’re going in that gauzy get-up?” General George Geiger gawked at his granddaughter with a guarded grin as she glided gracefully toward the garage door.

Gwendolyn ground to a halt and glanced at her garment. She was dressed as a Greek goddess in an iridescent gown of glowing golden gauze with gems galore gracing her gangly neck and arms.

“Why, to Lord Gavin Goodman’s Glorious Gala, of course,” she replied. “Don’t you remember, Grand Papa? Tonight is the Gaudy G themed masquerade ball.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. How could I forget?” he grumbled.

Gwendolyn smiled graciously. It was obvious he was getting on in years and had forgotten the event. She returned to his side and gave him a hug. “Oh, Grand Papa, I do wish you could go. I’m sure the night will be grand and glorious. It’s said to be the grandest party of the year.” She sighed with glee.

“In my younger years I would have gladly escorted you to this glorious gala. I was a right fine gentleman in my prime, but those days are gone, now.” A glint of sadness graced his gaunt features.

“Will you be all right on your own?” Gwendolyn asked with great concern.

“Good as gold,” her grandfather answered with overdone gusto. “Go, go, have a good time.” He waved her off with a gallant gesture.

Gwendolyn gave her grandfather one final kiss on his cheek before she gingerly gathered her gauzy skirts and glided toward the door.

The gala masquerade was being held on a grand old Spanish galleon that had seen its better days out at sea, but now rested gracefully at Lord Gavin’s dock down at pier 39. Gwendolyn was giddy with anticipation as she climbed the gangway leading up to the galleon. The grand old ship was glamorously festooned with garlands of lights twinkling gaily  and the music of GreenDay filled the air.

Making her way through the gregarious crowd, she wondered if she would be so gifted as to garner a gaze from Lord Goodman. Gawking at the Gaudily costumed guests, she saw  gay gypsies, green genies, gruff gorillas, German generals, gory goblins and grotesque gargoyles garbed in gray, just to name a few.

And then she saw him, Lord Gavin Goodman, grandly garbed as a Gentleman Gaucho. A genuine smile graced his genteel face. Gwendolyn gasped. He was gorgeous, if such could be said about a gentleman Gaucho.

Lord Gavin stepped forward, looked into her glazed-over green eyes, graced her hand with a kiss, and said, “Greetings, my dear Greek goddess. I believe it’s my sincere pleasure to meet you. May I have this dance.”

Gwendolyn gushed with gratitude. What a glorious gala this would be. . .

Enjoy always, T