Scene 1 – The Feast of Blood
The vast kitchen was wrapped in an uncanny stillness after the maids had left.
Only the faint clinking of hanging spoons swaying with the draft from the corridor,
and the soft dripping of water from the silver sink, broke the silence.
Qassem the cook sat on a wooden chair near the stove, wiping sweat from his brow with the edge of his white apron. He muttered under his breath, half to himself:
Qassem (whispering): “What party are they talking about? Since when do we throw parties all of a sudden?”
Across the room, Daniel was arranging the last bags inside the large refrigerator.
He stopped abruptly, then shut the fridge door slowly — the sound of it closing echoed sharply, like a blade cutting through air.
He turned toward Qassem, his eyes drained of wa
