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18 - Biscotti Bliss

Analise hula'ed through reception

and onto the rear patio. The moonlight shimmering on the bay, the gentle swish of the waves breaking on the beach below and the whispering of the sea-breeze in the palm fronds stopped her in her tracks. She clumsily sat at a table and soaked up the atmosphere. Unbidden, her table waiter placed an Expresso Amaretto on the table along with a small bread basket. She turned to thank him but he had moved on.

She sipped her expresso and watched the play of the moonlight on the crests of the waves. Her idle left hand fished for the bread, she didn't really want any, but it was something to nibble. The bread seemed to be stale, she nibbled it gingerly. Long forgotten sensations exploded in her mouth, she eagerly peered into the basket - six whole biscotti, just for her. If the waiter had been near, she'd have kissed him. Cocktail glass in right hand, biscotti basket in left, she hula'ed slowly to her chalet, trying to remember when she'd last had a midnight feast.