It wasn't that long ago when her mother told her the story. It was some time ago, or maybe some time to come. Her mother had been in the South West of France one late spring. As the day was turning into evening she stumbled upon a street with a few bars. Each bar was overflowing onto the street outside. A mass of people, who never knew which bar they were attending, swarmed together singing to songs from everywhere in all different languages. After a while, she made her way through the crowd into one of the bars and towards the back. There she found a young man, sitting by himself. Holding in the palm of his clasped hands a single flower from the Camellia Japonica Nuccio’s Gem.....
