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  • As we walked to the bus station you stopped in the way, grabbed a flower from a tree and gave it to me; you put it delicately on my hair and complimented me. I felt like dying because I thought that stuff only happened in the movies, and by then it was happening to me. How wicked!

    I remember us jumping into the water of the Illetes beach; you in your swimming suit and me in my clothes but without reservations, I guess it was the summer that carried me away, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was obviously, you.

    Yes, I wasn't ready for your sudden invitation, neither for the talk we had at the café, the talk that started it all. I remember the many glasses of sangria we had, my dizziness while working late in the afternoon that day and the drunk joy I experimented while remembering the adventures of that short morning in Palma.

    I didn't have any memory of summers until I lived one in your company, and now when someone tells me the word summer all I think of is: Palma, Sangria, Music, James, the sea and our evanescent love.

    I regret nothing of that summer.
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