San Simone

The name of the village where my good friends lived was called San Simone. Even in the hard winters where only a teasing flower held on to its last breath, one can find the timeless charm that was there. I found favor among everyone I met there. And even those i did not meet soon arrived in the picture, as this was a small place. The train i was in was headed east now on a new journey,moving away from San Simone. But somehow the more east I went,the more I was reminded of San Simone and all my unresolved experiences there,which up till now I had kept at bay. All kinds of mysteries from San Simone krept up into my wearied brain. Naturally I was somewhat relieved to finally be on my way, away from that thorny place; And yet San Simone kept creeping in,like a a wintered mouse seeking the warmth of a nostalgic attic. But one thing I may never know, and this to some extend is the fault of Monica,who had been so guarded and reluctant in giving me any information in regards to the speeding priest, to the point that even she herself pretended to have forgotten the matter altogether. She could only turn her head away from the questions and try to change the subject, which usually focused on the children in some trivial detail which only a new mother would truly know. It was only years later that I found out that the Priest had a biblical addiction of the worst kind, called "Jewish Karate". Do I need to elaborate more?