Waving Not Drowning

Dimitri can't pick up the smoked salmon canapé from the long skinny ceramic tray. His hands, meaty thick paws covered in scars, calloused and worn, are ungainly. Functional, strong, weathered but not fit for delicate hors d'oeuvres. Standing on brushed granite stone floors imported from the other side of the world, a long sleeve of microbrewed beer in one hand, a napkin of sugarcane shrimp in the other. Rogerio, Vlad and Justin awkwardly socialize with the gang of tradesmen representing at least 15 different cultures and countries. A thank you gathering for the workers who put together this monstrosity of a house, all 4000 square feet of custom designed opulence. Still an empty shell, yet to be filled with furniture and art and life, it's lines are bold. Clean, angular, severe. No curverd space, no soft edges. Sharp, purposed. Windows from floor to ceiling overlooking what will surely become a meticulously manicured back acreage falling deliberately into the preserved ravin...