The tiny bubbles melted in my mouth and journeyed northward into my brain. Sweet. Crisp. Delicious.
“That is really good,” I said. “I’ve never drunk champagne.”
A sturdy young waiter with wavy blond hair appeared. He was maybe even taller than Augustus.
“Do you know,” he asked in a delicious accent, “what Dom Pérignon said after inventing champagne?”
“No?” I said. “He called out to his fellow monks, ‘Come quickly: I am tasting the stars.’”
“Welcome to Amsterdam. Would you like to see a menu, or will you have the chef’s choice?”
I looked at Augustus and he at me. “The chef’s choice sounds lovely, but Hazel is a vegetarian.”
I’d mentioned this to Augustus precisely once, on the first day we met.
“This is not a problem,” the waiter said. “Awesome. And can we get more of this?” Gus asked, of the champagne.
“Of course,” said our waiter. “We have bottled all the stars this evening, my young friends. Gah, the confetti!”
he said, and lightly brushed a seed from my bare shoulder. “It hasn’t been so bad in many years. It’s everywhere. Very annoying.”
The waiter disappeared. We watched the confetti fall from the sky, skip across the ground in the breeze, and tumble into the canal.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색