my writing corner

Walking down the driveway, aiming for my sanctuary by the fig tree on the north end of the cieling on the vineyard, carrying my notebook, I see him sitting under the green branches, the ocean hovering over the cement wall, about a foot over his head would be, like a dark version of the heavens. His notebook is open on his knees, writing something down. I stop at the bottom of the drive and look at him. He looks up at me, blinks, then smiles at me, a smile that I know well. The scene flickers, changes before my eyes, and I am thrown back to a time long ago. I am on the south end of the building now, looking over the ocean a moment, taking a breath, and turning back to the party. Lights hang from tree branches, from the balcony. Women are dressed in their fanciest evening wear, men are dressed in black ties and tuxes. He comes towards me to say hello.... Joseph. We dance the night away before the ball ends. We've known each other, but we are, and have been, forbidden to see each othe...