The moon is shining hard and cold against the marbled floor of the living room. Few guests tonight, the two waitresses are sitting at the bar, talking to the bartender. Next to them, Alice is sipping lazily from a champagne glass.
She turns around in her stool and notices a woman. She is wearing a silk white dress, her hand holding onto a champagne glass, her black eyes, the eyes of a rebel, contemptuously glancing around at the other guests. Her slim body, her black hair covering her naked shoulders, she is more than perfection itself, she is more than…
She notices Alice looking at her and she gently nods her head and smiles. For the briefest of moments.
Alice walks closer. Somehow. Without her realizing. She has to. Continue reading