THE NIGHT OF THE LITTLE GREEN LAMA
What was it about Gabriella that made me so happy? Could it be my memories of Northern Italy during World War II? Or is it my more recent camouflaged existence in that same familiar territory? My war years were spent in a farmhouse. My more recent years were spent in a cave of sorts. How ironic my life has become. Once again instinct had overcome intellect.
But at hand was Gabriella and that is where my thoughts were. It was the evening of the unspoken promise. Questions arose. What time should I call her? Should I do something special for her? I knew that I wanted to do something special for her. I wished to let her know that I was thinking about her all morning long. However I did not want to appear overwhelming.
I could not stand spending another minute in the…
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