Five Leaves Echo from Stratum K

Pentafolious reiterations hint from the past...

Prizonye Prezan

Le Crâne Écrasé au Jus

A tavola non s’invecchia

The red sauce joint was gloomy and rather empty this early in the afternoon. Scant light cast from the faux Tiffany lamps overhead. Some dust drifted in a lone sunbeam intruding from a curtained window.
  At a table in the center of the room Miss Nadoghy slow drew spoonfuls of minestra maritata to her mouth. Malinconico poked pensively at his baked ziti. Time stood still, but for only a moment.
  “It’s a very special day,” she said contentedly.
  And it was.

The Uncreative Creative