John entered Tuscany searching the room for his wife. He saw her sitting at a table, her back to the door. He walked over to her, pulling the chair out to sit. Before he could speak she said, “I’m sorry you can’t sit there. I’m expecting my husband any minute.” Seeing the playful gleam in …
What I had with John was a thunderstorm. It was full of lightening and wind and drama and passion.
The Jarlena Journal 