Thoughts come to me over time, about that day. It started in Paris but we landed in berlin. I met her at a cafe, sparse, but the coffee was good and strong and we sat outside despite the chill. We were lilt with attraction and compassion, both with our guards down we chatted. That was not me. That was drawn from me. That was her skill.
I remember a bit about a bumpy flight. That too was very cold. It was dark. I heard men talking in the cockpit but was not sure they were aware of me. I was in the back hatch, in the darkness
Early November. I believe. Cold and damp.
