The night is young says the many romantically engaged couples, solace, quietness, and peace. The same couldn't be said for more than fifty percent of 'bonding'. The world's full of consenting however baseless affairs and merging of the flesh. None knew the truth more than those at the top, a scary thought considering those employing their charms to climb greater heights are often forced into silence.
Moans and grunts fill the lush and quiet night, footsteps of maids scurried from one end to the next, the twinkling of anklets melodically tells of the hurry. Occasional whispers end in giggles, at which point a loud shush resounds. Stars permeate the night more than is perceived, among the dots of white, red, and yellow, a particular formation draws the blank stare of a lonely lady. A round bed veiled behind curtains, the out of rhythm breathing of an older man, she watches through the arched frame, '-la constellation symbolize le relèvement,' [1]crosses her pressed lips.
