Bright shapes curled, lay, and sat between the cushions, leaning against the table legs, clinging to the rug, half coming out, half effaced within the camera flash, in all the attitudes of puffy abandonment and delicate despair.
Another call in the kitchenette went off, followed by a heavy rumble of the floor under my feet. The cake was being served. The cake! And this was the place where some of the yelpers had withdrawn from, stampeding for the most frivolous of foods.
“The howwah! The howwah!”
(with apologies to Joe Conrad)