From where we were, half way across the Square, I could see his black, curly head and the dark shirt he wore, his face a white smudge. I could imagine it though. At the dinner I had finally been able to shake the memory of that horrible night when I looked at him, but seeing him on the Presentation Balcony, in the Marble Palace, reminded me. My guts knotted. I looked down at the toes of my
Published on July 28, 2010 12:21