“The volcano’s active?” I asked. “Oh yes. Sometimes at night we see it glowing, and sometimes smoke pours out. But there hasn’t been an eruption in a few hundred years. “It will happen one day, of course,” she said. “But I like to think that living this way, in the shadow of an active volcano, serves as a daily reminder of the preciousness of my days. One day I’ll be gone. We all will. Why worry about that? In the meantime, let’s make sure the fish is cooked just right, and that the wine is French.”
