"Polokuz!" she repeated stupidly, her face blissful.
"Yes, yes, yes. I know, you know."
"It's true," have you ever been in love?
"Of course!" He exclaimed amused but almost offended.
He looked up, his gaze now distant.
"Ah, Frederica!" Pronounced he, nostalgic.
"Who is Frederica?"
"An exceptional woman," he answered, his gaze distant and brilliant, "with her coppery complexion, her long hair the color of night, and her body so voluptuous, especially when she danced flamenco, elsewhere than on the dance floor," he added, his expression eager.
"And what happened for that not to work?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"You know how it is, you love and you don't love anymore. So she married someone else, my neighbor, Pedro, who had a SUV, and I left for the Caribbean."
He put his hand to his chest.
"What a disappointment. Frederica...!"
"I see..."
