The Restaurant

The music plays faintly; innocently admist the floating flavors. Whispering conversations evolve together to form a sweet rhythm opposing the clashing cutlery. Chef’s shout to catch the waiter’s attentions, orders pasted to the wall like ugly swans in a beautiful pond. Dim lights glow like the moon, giving a subtropical moonlit effect. At reception, which is also the bar, phones ring incessantly, but no-one answers. Barpeople scatter around, spilling and splashing drinks while …

…some colour to the dull bill. Plastic cards, some glittery, some just plain, cover the cheap tub. Kids start to get inpatient after they have had their enjoyment and now want bed. Faces, once bright, are now getting faint after what would appear to be a tiring job, eating an excellent meal. Chairs finally shrill tight, for the last time. Sweeties are being sucked, babies are crying and adults are dreading the next days work.