A bottle of Amstel. Or should I say several bottles. I remember that day well. It was a hot afternoon and the hot dry winds cut across the island. They were Meltemi winds. We were oblivious and both burned. When the evening came we tired and traipsed home past the parched olive trees to collapse on our separate beds. Our day ended early. I woke briefly as the Cretan skies darkened and looked to where you slept under those thin sheets. I thought about the things we had learned about each other. We both thought The Outsiders was our favourite movie, and we both loved Canadian Matured Cheddar. In that moment, between sleep and wakefulness, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world.