The theater dated from around the 1900’s and had long ago fallen into disuse. The walls were crumbling and water damaged and the balcony area had dangerous holes in the floor, criss crossed with rusting wires and dripping with plaster. Dancers skirted along the edge of the void, tempting fate.

The thumping bass occasionally caused small bits of ceiling to fall, but as far as I could tell no one was seriously hurt by it that night.

The main ballroom was lined with hemispherical niches, each decorated with crumbling molding which served as the target of a series of animated projections of the earth spinning.

Along the high cathedral ceilings were hung layers of diaphanous cloth to display a continuous projection of clouds drifting, giving them the illusion of depth.

The floor of the ballroom writhed with dancers, each moving independently but also kicking out time to the same beat.

She had told me to meet her in the ballroom, that she would probably be dancing.

I saw her as soon as the drugs kicked in.