The flashbulbs strobed, and pandemonium raged. Neon hair, over-wrought glances, beautiful people begining to sweat. Insecurity vied with egotism, body odor mingled with perfume. Necks, lapels, real fake fur, haute hauteur.
The three-legged chihuahua sat expectantly in the ashen gloom. Hip hop bass boomed incessantly from a distant room. It got up and hobbled down the tenement hall, nails ticking on the broken tiles. A door opened onto the sky of a distant city. It was the day after Easter, and tentative clouds trailed through wrought-iron balconies. It was going to be a hot day.
(Inspired by Heather Champ.)