Dinner at the most popular Georgian restaurant on Leselidze Street, Shemoikhede Genatsvale (‘Come in, Darling’)
Dinner at Maspindzelo Abanotubanshi, with lovely Georgian violin music.
And time passed quickly, very quickly.
After August and mango trees decked out in all their lunules, September begetter of cyclones, October igniter of sugarcane, November who purrs in the distilleries, there came Christmas.
It had come first, Christmas did, with a tingling of desires, a thirst for new tenderness, a burgeoning of vague dreams, then with a purple rustle of its great joyous wings it had suddenly flown away, and then its abrupt fall out over the village that made the shack life burst like an overripe pomegranate.