The Flying Years – Part II

It is unlikely that I have ever dedicated a post to anybody other than Marie and a big black cat – except a manuscript, of course, which was dedicated to the late Gilbert Trigano, heart and soul of Club Med and indirectly responsible for sending me spinning through the wildest years of my adult life – but this…

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Good Bye Terrace

We are at T-minus a bunch of sleepless nights and steamy days, Brooklyn-bound at last, stubborn as beagles homing in on the cheese. Here in Harlem, nights are mild going on tropical and while fireflies for some reason have deserted us, the terrace is lush and welcoming. Marie will once again leave a bit of herself…

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