The Fifth of May
Calls beckoning me out would not stop. It WAS Cinquo de Mayo, afterall, and fireworks over the Atlantic announced as such. The 7th was in the final stages of Will's imminent departure for Chicago to his new doctor's position. This will go on all weekend. Will had been introduced to a new, local boy, James, and they hit it off so well. Frank was celebrating his birthday in another corner and the room kept circulating with an energy so very much The Palace.
Jeremy, Will, and Patrick prepared for the final weekend of Will's being here. We have all been so close.
Will prepared for his Good-bye Party on Monday by meeting James, a handsome Cuban boy. Squeeze it in while you can, Will; Chicago is an entirely different world.
It was Frank's birthday tonight, too. Frank is our resident environmental historian who fascinates us with stories of Miami's checkered past while recounting the life of a fire-breathing moth indigenous to our city. He's certainly one-of-a-kind and a boy of Sicilian background, which gives rise to the most scandalous theories.
And, all of you lost--at least the ones who did not have to disqualify themselves. Florian is the special one. That leaves the prize, Phillippe, to me.