Reverie
After receiving the letter, the old man sat on the brink of himself, thinking. His eyes were looking forward, but history lied behind them, like a cinema in reverse, with the screen at the back of the room. I say making love, you say “our sex”. You say “I have to admit that I regularly fantasize about our sex”, I say I will always remember your smile the first morning after. Anyway, there should be a rule for those who have broken your hear to not be allowed to say to you “I regularly fantasize about our” anything. But there isn’t. So, there, the old man sat, taking the letter as it was intended by its author, a compliment.
