The night of Cisco

The night of Cisco is something else. The night of Cisco is like walking through a dream. Rahman says the city is built on 14 hills. The houses on these hills are marvelous; they are like little villas. On top of the hill we stand on, everything bellow is shimmering, a sparkle of lights, a luminous chandelier that beholds the entire city. I am marveled. I am in awe. I don’t want to leave. I like this timeless town, the easy roads, the ease with which the Californians carry themselves.
Rahman’s wife, Anna, is too lovely and beautiful to describe. She has the sweetest tongue, the friendliest smile, the classiest demeanor. R and I fall in love with her. We like to listen to her talk forever. She runs a hair product store and Rahman helps her with the bookkeeping. Her parents are Italians who now live in San Francisco. She is wearing lots of eyeliner and a dark red lipstick that matches her red shirt. Her nails are bright red, polished and sophisticated. Anna’s words carry a rhythm, one that entraps and bewitches you, makes you happy and jolly.
Rahman and Anna take cruises all around the world. They will be in Venice for May. They look perfect, like they’ve lived and are living it everyday. Like they have tasted life and are waiting to taste more.
We leave them and take a tour with the Chevy as Ali drives. He shows us the night of Cisco, the hills, China Town, Down Town and the Alcatraz Prison. And then we head back to our rooms, tired, but too satisfied to lament our fatigue.
Some places are perfection. Cisco is one of those places. A place I feel I can easily love and be loved in. It makes me want to start over. Fresh, happy, with no past. This timeless town is perfectly perfect.
Tomorrow it’s Los Angeles…

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