May 17, 2007I spent a few hours on the beach, just as Umberto had prescribed. The gentle warmth of the sun felt good on my skin, but I imagined it falling instead on the tanned skin of my lover, Gaia. And I imagined her being by my side. I had to rely on my memory and imagination for that, a thought which left me in pain.
In time, bored with the solitude of the beach, I marched up the steps to Casa Albertina and entered my room. The gossamer curtains were drawn apart and a gentle breeze blew past them and lazily wafted into the room.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. After a few moments, I stood and wandered around the bed, making circles circumscribed by the pattern on the carpet. Although this was “my” room, in fact I shared it with others who had resided there in t
