Ludmilla pt. 1
He asked if she could show him around. She hesitated, brushed her hair aside, and told him there wasn’t much to see.
He didn’t care.
She paused slightly and then started toward the plaza. They resumed a brief conversation about the film. It was a hollow exchange, simple questions followed by muted opinions. He hadn't cared for it, he just wanted her company.
They crossed the street and into the threshold of the plaza. The setting sun’s rays cast down onto the space, bathing it in a shimming gold and red light. A line of fountains danced off to the right, their accompanying babble lost to the soft clamor of the plaza’s passing patrons. An arrangement of thin wood and steel tables lay spread across the open area, chairs of similar construction huddled around them.There was a pleasant amount of people. Some sat resting while others drifted across the intricate patterns laid into the concrete, long shadows stretched behind them.
At the far end of the plaza lay the grand domed figure of the history museum. A dozen bleached marble steps preceded its seemingly diminutive wood and glass entrance. Six long pillars rose at the building’s face, supporting a juting entablature. A winged gargoyle perched at its head, its stony eyes watching the plaza with a lidless fixity.
He didn’t spare it a glance. His eyes were hers.
