THE PARTY
The Andalucian moon seemed to warm the air of the spring night, as they walked, in singles and couples and strung out groups: amoeba like as they moved from moonglow to tenebrous shadow to the beehive hum of talk, and the flood of mellow light from the house. The old hands strode along the dusty track in hiking boots and “ sensible ” shoes, while those newly come to this magic place teetered perilously along the deep ruts in high heels and fragile town shoes. There was much hugging and kissing... Sign in to see full entry.