At the café the other day I asked Knut—the guy from Norway who comes here each summer—what his profession was.
“I have no profession,” he said. “I am my father’s son.”
“But what did you study in school?”
“Chemistry. But then my father died, and left me some money. I didn’t see any point continuing school, or working. Since then I have just lived.”
Not quite. During his first vacation to Ischia, about five years ago, Knut met an English girl named Chloe. They fell in love. He suggested that they live together here on the island, in a villa near the Chiaia beach. She said all right, they might as well try it out.
A year later Chloe died suddenly. Knut has not looked for a new girlfriend. He says he’s not interested. And yes, it’s been a long four years, but he thinks of her every day.
I’ve decided Knut is a Karmic messenger. He’s been sent to make sure I understand what awaits me, what indeed might have already occurred. Karma knows I believe that Vittoria will quickly recover and come here to rejoin me, as promised.
Karma tells me to stop clinging to false hope.