She looked forward to the family reunions. From the overstated ballroom, vintage champagne, exchange of gossip and display of wealth, the details never really differed. The mingling, sipping and chatter took one away from the triviality of everyday life. But what she loved most were the smiles. Changing year on year, they were truly a work of art. If evolution was meant to bring us the best tool for survival, nature had outdone itself with the smile. She surveyed the room. They came sweet, innocent, happy, bitter, heartbreaking, wicked or sly. It was perfect.
A cousin handed her a drink, “to pleasantries,” he smiled politely.
She smiled knowingly in return, they clinked glasses and took respective sips.
“Will you join me for a dance cousin?”
A corner of her lip lifted and she nodded.
Oh she did love this dance. May she never tire of it. She kept her smile on as she walked. It was the picture of guile. She had to play the game. She could only pray that the poison took longer to work this time.