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A Familiar Face

As I waited for the coming of my princess, my eagerness was also fixed on the coming moment when I could hear the beautiful sounds of cymbals, trumpets, and harps.

Imagining the sound of a ticking clock inside my ear helped me to defeat the invitation to sleep. I refused to look at my watch afraid that seeing the approaching time would make the recurrence of my excitement. Facing Georgia as normally as I could would make her feel comfortable and less apprehensive and mistrustful in seeing her new client. Though we had seen each other in the past when she began to parade her trade at the Riz, I was doubtful if she would or could still remember me. Remember me or not would not make a dent on my liking of her. I would not begrudge her for not acknowledging me as a forgotten acquaintance; and my slighted pride would not get in the way of my adoration of her.