We are hand in hand. Henry pushes the bike with his free hand. The prolonged kiss in the river was more than appreciable. Thank God the day is hot, otherwise, the breeze would have frozen my bones after this impromptu bath.
We return to dry ourselves at the guest house. Mona is an old lady who also manages the downtown clothing store. She has never taken me to heart, preferring Sara. I was a young girl spinning in a bad way, she says, and I fear that to this day she doesn’t have a better opinion of me. Did she still reproach me for stealing a pair of socks from her store? We’ll soon find out.
The guest house appears before us: a white house with red shutters. The flower borders, because of their diversity, offer a mix of colours. I’ve always loved this garden overflowing with life.
“Hen
