The values of each original left-winger are absolute. Especially one who belongs in the Communist left. Hierchically. Revolution. The proletariat. And girls of good families. Of the Right wing. Opposites are attracted to each other.

The appointment was to take place at 2. Not at night, but at noon. In “Aigli” of Zappeion. The watch showed it was quarter past. Never mind. Olga can always be late to her appointments. Just to waste some time, I started walking around. I told William Faithful (the photographer) “Take a shot of us when she comes round the corner”. “Done”, he said. Camera locked and loaded.

Precisely at 14:17 her shadow washed acrossed the landscape. Even over the bars barring the EU Presidence Zappeion. “What are they afraid of”, I thought to myself.

I rushed to her. With a smile. Embraced her, holding her waist. So did she. I leant to her and whispered something in her ear. I’m not gonna tell you what I said. She burst out laughing. “If you print that, they’re going to erase me from the party”. I took an oath: “Never. Not even if they torture me. Like that stuff at Guantanamo”.

“I’m not a ‘broad’, nor do I act like one”.

She wore a dark blue suede unbuttoned short jacket and a matching shirt. With a modest neckline. She noticed my look. Like way back when, in Paris. In the elevator of a five-star hotel. I was with Emmanuelle Beart. “Rich” qualities. My gaze was stuck. Not on her face. She had reacted. Saucily:
“I know you Greeks” she said. Because her grandmother was from Kalymnos…

…We took a walk. William begged for a few more poses. By herself. She obliged willingly. I would have done the same if I was her. Then she looked at the pictures. “Don’t worry, they’re gonna be great. The lens flirts with you”. She was glad. The epitome of a female. With a capital “F”. I wish more people were like Olga. But no such luck. Greek Parliament and love, two completely opposite things.