The Inquisition

Our first anniversary celebration (before things went sour).

This is not complete, I started writing a new style -- nothing like I was in the past.

What do you think? Good / Bad / any other comments are welcomed too.

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I glanced at Patti, my twenty-two-year-old wife, who, with a graceful wave of her right hand, swooshed her hair, an untamed copper-toned fire across the desert : a barren landscape that stretched to the horizon, aside to reveal her eyes. Her remarkable button eyes, a luxurious couverture : a velvety pool of rich, melted chocolate that promises depth and complexity. Much like high-quality chocolate, her gaze is mellow and soothing, catching the light with a perfect glossy sheen.
                   Tonight Patti’s adorn in a sleeveless, white, chiffon, max-dress, a pillar of fog that flows to and fro with the slightest breath of nature, it fluttered and billowed with her every graceful movement; which was accented with lava-red accessories. But, she maintained a cool complexion, which was enhanced by the white Zinfandel, throughout the evening.
                   Again, I fell in love with her for the first time.
                   In a timid, mouse-like voice, she mumbled something indistinguishable.
                   “Bob, Isn’t that a lot of wine?” She repeated, but slightly louder.
                   “Nope! It’s only my second glass. It’s not even half full.!” I said.
                   “Not quite!”
                   “Relax,” I said, “we’re among friends tonight.”