Forty thousand years of solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
by Christos Polydorou
Ok, I’ll admit, I’ve been messaging someone for nearly a month now. Don’t wanna jinx it. Met here, lives in Tuscany, coming back. Long distance something, better than nothing. Not that I am settling for it. What’s App: A 2017 Romcom. Not a musical, please. Maybe a montage in a club, sure, but tasteful, and not everybody has their shirt off. I am trying not to be effusive. I’ve been told I am this, and it is startling. I was only effusive as a response to not really wanting. This one I’ll take. Teaches German. Is studying English. I am assisting. It is consensually romantic. Now to reach it a little less obliquely. Perhaps to find what one has been looking for after forty years of looking for it. Feels like forty thousand sometimes.