I answered trying to keep my calm: ‘Marcel’. ‘Ah, the strong woman, leading her lovers on the tip of her fingers. Very good’. ‘So many fanta...ies into just one story!’ I added. ‘That is a courageous woman. Who would not admire her?’ He smiled. I could see he was satisfied of the way I responded. He was older than Julian, more manly and confident in himself, less emotional and more firm. Surely, he had a lot of experience. I wasn’t altogether dissatisfied with this encounter, although I was. Soon, the coffee day was here. She spent hours tending to her hair and make-up, destroying her closet in an attempt at the perfect outfit. She nervously drove to the meet, the first snow of the year, giant flakes on her windshield. The day was perfect, the snow falling quietly, traffic was light with fear of sliding through the snow. She pulled into a parking spot at the front and walked inside of the rustic coffee shop. There he was, his tall frame watching her every move. He was on the phone. More

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