This afternoon, after another golden hour, Maria asked me what I thought happened forty years ago that brought us together. She wondered that "it was meant to be."

I smiled, and thought back to those early days. She was shy, graceful, and quiet. She would look at me with a Mona-Lisa smile that drew me to her, while she tried to push me away. She was intelligent and beautiful. But she was exotic. She lived very much within herself. Sensual and yet in her innocence she reminded me of a fawn at the verge of the forest, watching, knowing.

There was no resisting her.

I couldn't put my finger on it. The French have a phrase je ne sais quoi.

Maria always ineffable and so ineluctable.

mek

Gross asks me:

"Just wondering about the significance of the story about the waitress who killed her husband for cheating. I fight every day to understand. The meaningful friendship allows an honest exchange of ideas in this pursuit. "