Rick said it
best in Casablanca: “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in the world,
she walks into mine.” Like Ilsa, my femme fatale had no idea I was here when
she flew into town.
Titian's La Bella 1536?
I read about her
arrival in the newspaper. Titian’s La Bella had arrived in town for an exhibit at the Portland
Art Museum; her smiling face filled an entire page. I hadn’t seen her in years,
but she’d fluttered through my thoughts too many times to count. She’d aged
well over the years, not that it mattered; I’d always had a thing for older
women. Still, no expense had been spared keeping her preternaturally in her prime,
no easy task since she was over four hundred years old.
Read about the other woman in my life (here).
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