Weightless in San Francisco

Swimming with a Charm of Vincent

  Vincent couldn't sit still. While I was fiddling with my phone he was looking round at the view, the girls, the Adriatic colours. When we went for a swim he kept his straw hat on. I waddled on hard pebbles, stubbed my toe; he smiled. He asked if we could visit Fazio's on the way back. I agreed. I knew he'd order Sambucca then wince at its sweetness. I think he liked the green hills, the fortified villages, vineyards and farmsteads, ancient and...

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