Hotel of Flying Maids

At the end of an exquisite dinner, and only at the moment of serving the dessert, one of the maid falters and made the water gurgle while she was serving the glass. Hell, what did just happen? We found out immediately. A fatal rupture had taken place in the harmonious cadence of the service, an unpardonable oversight in the quietude of the dining hall, surely caused by an anticipated step or a delayed gesture. The atmosphere, suddenly, broke its Zen inspiration. Like a stab, all the gazes converged towards that glass from which bosom, a slight, but obvious, gurgle had been perceived. The maid, Continue reading