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John Palcewski's Journal

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Reply to Bellafiore

Sweetpea, what a surprise! Even though you're in a place that seems like prison, it's good that you're recovering under strict medical supervision. That way, you'll get better much quicker.

The book is going very well. I left a couple of messages on your cellphone, but I assume you don't have it with you. I wanted you to come on line more regularly, so that if some good news comes in later this month I'll be able to let you know right away. We need to stay in close touch, especially now.

You can access your AOL mail by going to the website:


Once you log in with your screen name and password, you can check your mail, and even send mail. Give it a try and see what happens.

My prayers continue to go out to you for a speedy recovery. And remember: this story WILL have a happy ending!

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My sister brought me my cell phone, now you can leave messages. Let me know about any new news. I'm not sure when i can use the nurses computer again. Say did I write anything on this journal? Who came up with the name bellafiore? And the photo. Okay got to run. Nurse is back. Bye.

Sweetpea, yes, you frequently wrote in your journal. Poems, stories about growing up in Buonopane, and even the beginning of a childrens' book about a little bunny who magically goes all over the world for adventure. But you asked me to delete all your entries because...well, you had a very good reason, but no point mentioning it here.

As for your username that was my idea, which you liked very much. You are, indeed, a beautiful flower! The photo of the sweet little angel? I took it a couple years ago up in Trieste. When I saw it I smiled and thought of you. Yes, you always appear so angelic...but you also are a mischievous little devil!

I left another message on your cell phone, and as soon as I get some good news I'll let you know. Keep well, my sweet. Know that each day I send you my prayers for your quick recovery, as well as all sorts of loving thoughts.


you know Lawrence Durrell, don't you.

I haven't read much of him, but do know what he said in Mountolive:

"Our inventions mirror our secret wishes."

"Last night in bed he had read some pages of the Latin poet Tu most loved; it was like sleeping beside her."

(Livia, the second novel of the Avignon Quintet)

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