I love a good dinner party. The smokers outside, conspiracy hanging heavy in the air. The hum of conversation reaching a quiet crescendo inside. Glasses half-full begging for refills as stories are re-told. The stoic clinking of ice building the backdrop to climax. The food adding spice to the romance, the dessert sealing the deal.
Ashtrays lie in wait, bearing witness to unfolding events. Discarded bottles ready to play enablers.
Sheets that come tomorrow will wink back knowingly.