pavel shappo • afterparty
Stroboscopes are fading away… A DJ is dropping one disc after another to the floor. Vinyl goes all to pieces. Only voodoos remained on the dance floor. It’s 6 a.m. You are falling asleep right at the bar counter with another cocktail or coffee, or cigarette in your hand, but you overcome yourself to hear the last track. You are going home in a car half-asleep. The rising sun and glycerine smoke make your eyes tear, you close them and sleep. The car is rocking your body tired of disco, house and funk dancing.

Someone wakes you up. You are sleepy but happy, because you see that your friends took you with them to the sea. The sea is friendly. It is slowly rollingsailing ships in a bay with some particular tenderness. The all-triumphant sun is rising. Wine and girls mixed together took their places on hot hoods. Someone has already taken a run to the sea. The prettiest girl is holding out a glass of icy champagne and a little oyster. You say "thank you" to everyone, but no one hears. Someone has just turned on wonderful music. Everyone is drinking wine and watching the sea.
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