December 1971. A cold grey afternoon. Marc and I are sheltering in one of those little coffee bars for students. It's like a nest - it's getting too hot, and the lack of space pushes everyone together.
We're both leaning against the little café table, and our faces are practically touching. We could almost kiss. The atmosphere is relaxed: I hear some comments about exams, but most people are talking about skiing holidays and New Year's Eve parties.
Marc and I look at each other in silence, quite openly looking into each other's eyes as if to drink in each other with our gaze, gorging ourselves on each other before the holidays when we will be apart, and yet more together than ever.
You can hardly hear the music coming from the little speakers on the walls. They're playing "My sweet lord," the latest hit from the ex-Beatle George Harrison:
"My sweet lord,
I really want to see you…"
My sweet lord…I really need to see you, I need to be with you, I need to know you, and follow in your footsteps.
While I'm looking at Marc I give these words another almost sacrilegious meaning. He answers me with a knowing and wicked grin. We savour that shared moment, which slowly melts away as if it were honey, until it becomes part of us, our souls, our bodies.
Whenever I hear George Harrison, I remember that moment that was so sweet. But today, the taste has become bittersweet because George is dead.
29th of November, 2001