Truth is much nicer than fiction.

I impressed Daniela today. Or so I assume. Because I went into her coffee and candies and ice cream shop today and ordered ‘un caffe macchiato.’ And I even said ‘grasia’ Yes, my version of fluent Italian. And she understood me. She’s Italian. Married a Forest Lake man, and she’s been living here for years. And she stays busy in her little shop on Main Street. Anyway, I got served exactly what I wanted. A cup of espresso with a few drops of milk whipped in. And the espresso was a brand that comes from Sicily. I have a different kind at home. A brand from Sardinia. I’m partial now to Italians, and especially to a particular Sardinian, who happens to be my true love. I returned from a winter in Sardinia earlier this month. And my true love will join me here this summer. And she’ll meet and converse with Daniela. And this autumn, I’ll return to Sardinia, maybe for six months. Never thought I’d end up living in Italy. And drinking espresso daily. But once again, truth is stranger and often much nicer than fiction. –Jim Broede