The Influence Of Gaudi. Comments

She poisoned them a little every day. Just enough to soften and ripen, but not to kill.They were her collection.Her pride and so much her joy and her main reason for living.Her grande design.
The web she weaved was silky, strong and treacherous, perfected over the decades of her dark existence.An art taught to her by her mother, long gone now, just a dim fading memory.
Neatly in rows they hung in the humid hallway of her home in an old Gothic section of the city, deep in the little known lane way behind the busy museums of the maritime sector Navel De Catalunya near the Govern Militar. Here Gaudi influences abounded all around her.
Here she was safe, safe in anonymity, safe in shadows, safe in streets where she lurked unnoticed.Here she could pick her prey in the shadows of evening and under the blanket of night.The perfect location to snare those too foolish or too drunk to be out on the cobbled streets of Barcelona on a cold and lonely evening.
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