The ancient stone cavern was oddly fitting for the guitarist playing Recuerdos de la Alhambra. The notes skipped off strings teased by skilled fingers, bouncing like the shadows of the marble stone in the candlelight from the silk covered table. In the center of the cavern stood a couple elegantly dressed. Her red dress seemed to shimmer of its own accord, and his black hair curled slightly over his crisp white collar.
* * * * *
The paiR. Dinner nakpins hang limp from hands – forgotten surrender flags. “Bastardo!” Snarled words and spittle. A snarled laugh of disgust. “HA!” Storming across the roomhe slams his hand against the knocked-over chair and sends it fly-flying against the wall. Wood rains. She charged closer to him closing-the-10-foot-distance beating her breast in protest. “’Li mortacci tua!” Whirling around, tearing hair. A red patch of silk fell to the ground.
*Writing 101 challenge, day 7. Whachu think?
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 