Wild Blueberry Soup
Ash strolled up the path passing the automated kerosene-fueled lamps that lit the walkway to the double wooden door wearing the donkey head. Standing on either side of the entrance were two mature women, one dressed in flowing iridescent silks of a Roman gown and her partner in loose-fitting trousers wearing a flowered crown. Both their faces shimmered with glitter.
“Greetings fair one. May I see your invitation?” the woman in trousers said.
Ash patted his breast pocket of his cream-colored jacket and pulled out his card stock.
The woman in the gown took it from his grasp, looked it over. “Bless thee, Bottom. Bless thee!” The two women laughed and stepped aside to let Ash by.
Ash let out a playful bray. The waiting guests behind him chuckled. He heard music coming from the ballroom but the growling of his stomach led him to the dining area where a grand buffet stood in the middle of the room.
Tiered plates held bite-sized portions of decadent food. In the center of the table was a fountain gently pouring forth a dark violet liquid. Ash read the card. “Blueberry soup.” — Cinderfella (RIVETED, Book #2)