A pang of homesickness gripped him. For a moment, he felt detached from the others in the room. He looked down at his hands resting on the desk. What ...m I doing here?"Hello." Tristan looked up. A young, dark-haired woman stood in front of him. "I think that is my seat." She indicated the empty chair next to him."Oh OK." He moved his chair forward so she could get past and sit down. She turned to look at Tristan and smiled. She had a radiant smile, which lit up her whole face, and her dark eyes. “Thanks,” I responded, looking at my beard and longish grey hair, my eyes looking as if I was seeing something in the distance, which I wasn't. “You look more youthful and energetic in person. You look too serious in that poster.” “That's my poet pose the publisher's photographer wanted,” I chuckled. “Right and not the older guy picking up a young woman in cafés look,” she said with a slight smirk on her lips. I nodded and took her hand as we left the bookstore. My brother's apartment was. More

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