Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: July 1, 2025
It was good to be 22 and not have to keep your mouth shut. Gino got to his feet and stretched. "What a man!" "Sit down, Gino." "No compassion." "It's lonely at the top," Gino said, trudging toward a ladder. That evening in the Depresso, Patrick finished the mathematics book. He planned to mail it to Molly on Saturday, when he usually checked the Post Office for mail.
It was a relief to be on the road. "I need a beer," he said when they reached town. "O.K., Patrick, see you," Sue said, stopping in front of the Depresso. "O.K." He paused. "You are really beautiful." She made a wry smile that said, "I already know that." "Night, Patrick." The next day, during coffee break, he told Wilson what had happened. "Chicks," Wilson said.
He finished the Darwin book and started An Introduction to Mathematics by Alfred North Whitehead. One evening in the Depresso, Sue came over to his table and asked what he was reading. "Listen to this," he said. "Operations of thought are like cavalry charges in battle: they are strictly limited in number; they require fresh horses; they must be made only at decisive moments."
Parker slapped one knee. "It's over there ha, ha art . . . " "Well it was, is," Patrick said. "Yes, yes, no doubt." Parker dropped him off at the Depresso. "Thanks for the raise." "You earned it, Patrick. See you in the morning." Patrick skipped down the stone steps to the Depresso patio. Willow was reading at a table, leaning back, her long legs stretched out before her, crossed at the ankles.
She put the change on the counter between them, not wanting to touch him again; she was still feeling his hand, pleasantly hard against hers, and she wanted to go on enjoying it. "Off you go," she said. "Gotta put the paint on the wall. That's what Wilson says." He took the bag and the change. "Maybe I'll see you and Amber at the Depresso." Damn him. "Maybe."
Patrick was beginning to feel at home in the Depresso. Amber had come in twice during the week, once with Willow and once with a builder named Art. She had smiled at Patrick, but she wasn't available although her smile seemed to indicate that any day she might be. I'm on her list, Patrick thought, smiling back.
He had looked Willow over on previous occasions in the Depresso. He was tall and alert, in his mid-twenties; he had dark hair, blue eyes, and a mustache. They had never spoken, but Willow had the feeling that he knew more about her than she did about him. "What do you think about Vietnam?" Patrick asked Willow as she sat down. They waited while she considered.
The next afternoon, Willow was at the Depresso before him, absorbed in a paperback. "Hi, there," Patrick said. She looked up and smiled. "Hi, Patrick. I brought my largest handkerchief." "What are you reading?" "Balthazar, by Lawrence Durrell." "I saw you go by with Martin, yesterday." "Oh, yeah. Martin took me for a drive and showed me his studio. He has been making recordings."
Eating out was important to Patrick. While he was working, he worked hard, concentrating. Dinner was a time to relax, to think, and to look around. He enjoyed being in the midst of people without necessarily having to talk to anyone. The Deanie's crowd was straighter than the Depresso crowd. IBM'rs and local business people mixed with musicians and artists. The waitresses were middle-aged.
"Love, Willow." She rode back to the village and ordered flowers for her mother. She slipped in the note and made her second trip of the day to the post office. Not bad, she thought, pedaling to the Depresso. Not bad at all. "You look cheerful," Patrick said when she arrived. "It's Pluto," she said, "hanging around Venus again." She bent over and kissed him quickly. "Mercury and Jupiter.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking