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I have been sitting in a café almost for two hours now and been recalling how I met him. It was eight years ago when I met him the first time in Mexico. Gerardo invited me to come to Mexico to stay at his house. Gerardo is one of my best friends whom I met in Vancouver nine years ago. Jorgito is his older brother. As soon as we met each other, we started talking as if we had known each other for a long time. He was twenty-two years old then. He said to me proudly, “You know, Shogo, I met a Japanese girl in Toronto two years ago. Her name is Hana, and she is so beautiful. She’s sent me several post cards from different countries. She likes traveling around the world. The last one is from India, but I’ve never written her back, so she doesn’t know whether I receive them or not. Poor Hana, because it’s obvious that she is still in love with me. Listen Shogo, it isn’t my fault, but His who is above. I haven’t asked God for being so handsome to come on this earth, ha-ha-ha.” Such is my good friend Jorgito.

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