My friend, Andrew is living in Florida.We speak to each other in Skype every day.He has a company, he deals with business mediating.He is sometimes millionaire.
He has brought up seven children, two of them are under age yet.
He has an adventurous life. Because of anticommunist opinion he had to emigrate from Hungary in the eighties. He has learnt friendship in the seventies in Budapest, he was among the "old rascals",he belongs to the beat generation.
He loves his friends. - This is very good for me - he would give even his life for them.
Andrew's hearth is warm, he is hardworking, honest.
He comforts, encourages, heartens he says and makes funs:
One time he presented a plastic bat for a man, who used to be in prison because of murder- he had served his sentence - and he killed with a wooden bat.
Andrew gave him a plastic - not to suffer with wooden bat.
Andrew can be very angry.He has saint rages, he is furious with "crazies" who want to let him down.
The stupidity is endless, as we know, Andrew's rages are not useful.
He loves his stomach. He can cook well, he used to have a restaurant.We often discuss his favourite meal's recipes.( Bean soup with foreleg ham,but he loves the Japanese sea fishes too.) He can make a good appetite while we are speaking.
We always discuss what was the lunch.
It is radiating Florida's warm from his words, in the moist, grey winter.
I'm waiting for the afternoon. He comes in Skype:
"I'm here"
