We were out for a morning walk to Nice when, after a mile or so the cold medicines I had been taking got the better of me. You probably know that feeling of shaky fatigue. We decided to turn around and head back to Villefranche but stopped for a little nourishment, since it was nearing noon and we were in France. We sat down at a tiny outdoor snack stand under some tall trees on the main road into the village. Seeking a table in the sun, we seated ourselves next to a gentleman who was just finishing his lunch in one of the few prime spots. Proximity and Jann’s personality soon carried the day and we soon found ourselves talking with Marco. He was Italian but lived in Prague – an entire story by itself we are sure. He did admit it had something to do with an old girl-friend, but he offered no more than that. Being a story teller, I prefer to be able to fill in the blanks unencumbered by the facts. He shared that he now spent much of the winter in the south of France, because Prague was too cold. It was clear that he was alone and lonely, two related but different feelings. Although he and I conversed a lot, it was evident to me that his attention was fixed on Jann. I kept sensing an inner whisper emanating from him, are you sure you are with him? I smiled inside; this happens a lot.
Marco and Me
