I see orange and yet we are free!

Tasting the soft chocolate desert reminded me of someone else’s childhood. They always told me they were not allowed chocolate, so of course I presumed they never had that sort of pleasure.

In fact they used to have polenta sponge cake laced with absinthe and a touch of honey and grated almond. Not bad for a child!

I had shoes hand made out of soft suede with veneer and fur linings; great shoes for cold winters in slick city streets. They wore long and at the time fashionable, fur boots.

Sometimes it gets difficult to imagine someone else’s life. When I started traveling to faraway lands, I realized how hard it can be.

Looking up at the balcony, she saw the love of her life.

Later, at home, she saw the same person on the evening news show.

Very entertaining.

They met for coffee, here and there.

They liked what they said, what they heard, what they saw.

Years later they felt rewarded, lucky, fortunate and oh so special.

We achieve a harmonious buoyancy just by hearing about their story.

And, the world was one.

What a fine bag?

It was so exceptional and conferred the status of a wise, generous, affable, charismatic soothsayer upon all who owned one.

We are predicting history into the future, the bag has not been made, but we will get it started in a while and be very careful who we allow to buy one.

Selective does not mean biased, but it can be tricky.

The better bags of betterment beget ballistic benevolence.

Flying first, shuffling economy.

Are we to talk about travel, the economy or neither?

Your vote counts.

You bet! Or, shall we say, it is counted. There’s a difference!

But when the flights don’t go where you choose and the elected ones don’t do any good, then you must go and find Mother Teresa, Gandhi and King Solomon and ask as many questions as you can before time is up.

A number higher than ten, larger than eleven and greater than twelve.

Why not, we posit, just say the number!?

Straightforward, plain speaking truth is not in fashion. It may have been three thousand nine hundred and twelve years since it was the norm.

I’d love a rich, foaming double espresso.

Doble. Yes please.