It is not true!
You are so young!"
I drove my shrimps amongst the Thousand Islands in my bowl.
"You are observant, Sir" - I said - "but wrong. I may be possessed of
past, but not of future" - I gauged the impact of my harsh
pronouncement - "Not necessarily a thing to mourn" - I added.
He rearranged the remnants of his dinner on his soiled plate. I
gathered that he was far too experienced to be optimistic.
I visited the friary next morning. A young monk, clad in sportswear
eyed me with surprise. I mentioned my referrer and was instantly
admitted. We occupied a metal bench amidst a bustling corridor.
He told me about the order. They study several years, embark on
charitable missions in far-flung countries, and then take vows.
I reassured him I was celibate and he pretended to believe me.
Gene called and invited me to his bookstore to inspect a new shipment.
I used to spend all weekends there, reading, socialising, and devouring
unwholesome food in the adjacent restaurant. Shoppers came and went.
Gene would register the day's meager intake in his books and lock the
entrance door. Sometimes we would proceed to patronise an Old City
coffeehouse. But usually I would return to my alcove and wait for
Monday.
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