Quotes About Grottoes

The odors of perfume were fanned out on the summer air by the whirling vents of the grottoes where the women hid like undersea creatures, under electric cones, their hair curled into wild whorls and peaks, their eyes shrewd and glassy, animal and sly, their mouths painted a neon red.

I could still see the smoke stack. That's where the water would be, healing out to the sea and the peaceful grottoes.