Sandra and I went for a walk along the canals near her condo in Venice. The sky looked as though it would crack open. It did. The minute we set foot back inside, the rain came down, dousing the city with an unexpected freshness that Sandra took in, seated on kitchen steps by the door that leads to the backyard.
“I love the smell,” she said, “right after the first rain.”
We’d gone out to meet a friend for lunch. I hadn’t seen Debbie for maybe twenty years. We laughed hysterically at the man who tried to bully our waitress by snapping his fingers at her vigorously. Sandra applauded the waitress’s cool response, turning on her heel and walking away from him, which made him snap louder. It felt like we were watching a movie. You know, a comedy about people being so mean that it’s farcical.
Meanwhile back in Sugartown, the boys are having fun. I miss them so much.