The bag is ready to go on the trip I’ve been planning for a few weeks. I take what I need: a couple of shirts, dress pants, matching shoes and belts. Donatella took care of getting everything ready. She knows I hate this kind of dressing up. It’s not for me. I see people wasting money, bragging about having all the possibilities to buy cars of the year, brand-name clothes, and expensive cell phones. Vanity fills the heart and mind. For me, those material things are totally fleeting. The fondness I feel for those details is a foam that, little by little, dissolves with time.
I hand the suitcase to the driver, and he nods as he closes the trunk door.
I don’t want to think about Tatiana. Thinking about her makes my soul ache. The confusion day after day has begun to overtake me, and it
