Second Skin
“He was a young man – not the boy he had been when he first started having the dream – and he looked nothing like the darkly handsome Mediterranean-blooded person he saw in the mirror every morning. He was blond and blue-eyed, smartly dressed in white – always white – and he was a long way from his family apartment on 101st Avenue and Eighty-seventh Street in the Ozone Park area of Queens.
Exactly where he was he could not say. Maybe it was Florida or Europe or something because there were palm trees and cool trade winds and sunlight sparkling off a green ocean studded with luxury yachts. But maybe it wasn’t Florida after all because everyone was speaking a foreign language, not Italian, not English, even him. Anyway, come to think of it, he’d been to Florida once with his father and his brother, Caesare, and this wasn’t it.
For sure, it was someplace exotic and he was with someone heavenly, a girl tall and lean with long brown limbs so shapely you didn’t want to take your eyes off the...m, and blond hair tied back off her oval face in a French braid and green eyes cool and deep as that ocean.MoreLess
Exactly where he was he could not say. Maybe it was Florida or Europe or something because there were palm trees and cool trade winds and sunlight sparkling off a green ocean studded with luxury yachts. But maybe it wasn’t Florida after all because everyone was speaking a foreign language, not Italian, not English, even him. Anyway, come to think of it, he’d been to Florida once with his father and his brother, Caesare, and this wasn’t it.
For sure, it was someplace exotic and he was with someone heavenly, a girl tall and lean with long brown limbs so shapely you didn’t want to take your eyes off the...m, and blond hair tied back off her oval face in a French braid and green eyes cool and deep as that ocean.MoreLess
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