The silvery glitter sprinkles across my periwinkle blue hood and flies off of the heavy cloak. Shaking out my matching silver hair, I smile as it sticks to my cheek.

I’m dressed up as a fairy, a fairy godmother.

Actually, I’m in my tiny new closet space, trying on the Disney costume after the fact, wondering if I’ll use the pretty thing before next Halloween or not.

No, it will need to be stowed up the pull-down ladder and stuffed up into the miniature, dusty attic.

Glitter can be a real spoiler, I think.

So showy and full of promise, but without solid staying power; I’ll be seeing it in my vacuum bag, for years, probably, but not on in my dress.

But it’s enticing blue extravagance is so retro-reminiscent.

Pretending and all of that.

The plastic masks we wore that had sharp slits for eyes and a slim mouth that cut your tongue.

Like sweet memory, I want this last Halloween to hang around as long as possible, before my grandson gets too big for such stuff.

Such is the way with trying on beauty – the thrill, the glamour and the dream of becoming something so otherworldly and free. It’s filmy and hard to capture.

Anyway, today I gather my billowy sleeves and as my fingers wrap inside the pink inner folds, a small rectangle of ragged silver slips down my spine and onto the floor.

Airheads candy, a sweet surprise just for me.

photo credit: Dale Chihuly, artist