Copyright (C) 2007 by Sam Vaknin.
n that we are all agreed." - Isabel proceeded and turned toward her husband:
"John, or whoever you are," - He recoiled as if struck with a fist - "what was the color of the curtains in the small hotel where we have consummated our love for the first time?"
"Must I go through this in public, in front of my son and this complete stranger?" - He bellowed, his monstrous frame towering over her. But she remained undaunted and unmoved and finally, he settled back in his creaking chair and resignedly mumbled:
"The room had no curtains. You complained all morning because the sunlight shone straight on your face and wouldn't let you fall asleep."
His visage was transformed by the memory, radiant and gentle now, as he re-lived the moment.
"True. You have clearly done your homework." - She confirmed reluctantly and addressed her son:
"Edward, what did you see in a book that made you cry so violently and inconsolably when you just a toddler?"
"It was an art book. There was
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