TE17 Mysterious Montenegro

Join the Dance

In front of the pale-lipped, bony, and skinny-like-a-starving-dog woman, an Alsatian curse word also flies out of her mustachioed husband’s mouth as he gets up, leaving Attale alone at the table among the remains come disaster. The cooper staggers then slides in front of the window, passing through all of the colors. He reaches the open door and laments in devastation:

“What has become of us?!...”

Feeling the hypnotic rhythm of Enneline’s clogs stomping outside, he hears what sounds like a flood that cries over the dead happiness; then, after awhile, he goes out. He extends an armand his calloused hand to take hold of the engraver’s wife’s delicate hand. Together, they dance in circles in the middle of the street.

Chapter 3

Holding hands one in front of the other and tapping their heals in step, they get closer then go back. They turn around to approach each other, and then they begin again. Taking advantage of some distance, Melchior Troffea stepped in front of his wife and grabs her. She flows around him like crystal water by taking two steps back before going forward and retaking Gebviller “the Ogre’s” hand. She had let her blackveil slideoff of her shoulders. Melchior grabs it as it falls without taking his eyes off of her who seems to be in another world. The cooper wasn’t any better. Old and stout, and on this day his skin is saggy, his cheeks hang as if they came from an orangutan, and his soul seems to be suddenly connected to the void. He knocks about on knock-kneed legs without any life in his head or his hands. The engraver pities themboth, seeing 115