It is good to see old friends. It is good to go out and laugh and tell stories. To hug and kiss and listen to someone laugh. He went to pick her up at her door. They walked to the french place. They told stories and remembered things they had lived together. They sat in the old couch, and they ordered wine for breakfast. They started their day with wine. People thought they were crazy, but what the hell.
Then they ate and drank and time passed them by. And it was like if all the time that they had not seen each other was inexistent. Time passes them by, but they keep flowing with it. And they smile their little smiles, and drink their little drinks, and have tea and wine. And it all could be a Jethro Tull song, but it is more, although it keeps the same feeling.
Happy Birthday, Claire.
