The call

The atrium. The sky floods down his light onto the white marble ground, the fountain water tickles away the stress. Shielded by all noise from the busy outside city, the atrium lies cozily imbedded in the small hostel in one of the sleepy side streets of Granada. Today, the Alhambra will be almost sold out even in the early March morning hours when the sun still has to disperse the night's trace of cool chill. Soon, a young man will sit down in this atrium, waiting patiently for breakfast to start. And after he'll have been there for a while, his eyes will cross with those of a young woman stepping out of one of the rooms; and they'll shake up each others worlds.