The curtains and the Bistrot
Looking at the picture, all we see is symmetrical zigzagging reminiscent of the mountains’ profile of the snow-covered pines of our woods. Or a heavenly breast of a goddess. Aphrodite, or maybe Pallas Athena, who is to know? And yet it is simply the sensual beauty of a curtain, one of the many you can discover in the hotel’s nooks and crannies. The piano hums and thrums smooth jazz downstairs in the Bistrot. Would it not be nice if Marlena Shaw were to swing by here, now and again, and caress these curtains with her sophisticated touch? Curtains that awaken carefree happiness woven in their very existence.