More Vanilla

Vanilla is thirteen years old.

They were to part ways. Vanilla thanked him for the kind gesture of accompanying her to their home, but before taking the small cobbled path, she gave him a small kiss in the cheek. She then gave him 'beautiful eyes' by acting to close the eyes to a slit and beaming, and walked away.

James was dissolved in oblivion. He couldn't believe that he could fall in love with the little girl. He swayed, slithered his way back to the coliseum where an acquaintance was waiting for him.

The acquaintance asked about the sudden disappearance.

Long story, James had in mind, but did not verbalize it. Dinner, he said instead.

James' dilemma wasn't a secret at all: the food. For the first night, they had to pay hospitalities to their hosts by joining their kosher preparation. Jewish servings were not that much, they only have enough for what the body can digest in ten hours. Gluttony is a sin.

The taste was unbelievably subtle. They had the least salt, and there was a tangy aftertaste to the lamb steak, which was due to the lack of pepper or any other condiment apart from salt (Or could also be the presence of an unknown substance). The bread had an ancient feel on it, the type that the apostles once dined. It was unleavened and a small tearing from a bigger portion is satisfying. The meal was filling, nonetheless.

He had a small talk with other participants. The day was a little short if he was asked, for he had a lot of things in mind. He took a lot of photographs, too, and saved it for the other blog.

Went to bed with a smile on his face. Everything that happened on the first day in Haifa was overwhelming and lesson-filled. He sent Joe an e-mail retelling the experiences and slept immediately after. Five more days will surely be of more fun and erudition.