Cobble stones flow around the deck like a river; night has set and the stars fly through the sky, tails aglow.
The overhang carefully guards its precious cargo, the dinner guests of Mr. van Gogh.
The waiter with his spotless white uniform, hands out cups of coffee and plates of cookies like Santa Claus.
A quiet chattering fills the air, a group of crickets dressed in their finest furs, silks and jewels, chirp about their infamous host.
If only they knew…
He collects them into his works while they remain none the wiser. They go about their business forever trapped in a world of canvas.
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