Gold

Gold — page 3
Annabel and I are sitting at an outdoor café in the main square in Orvieto Italy I’ve been staring in awe at the ornate entrance to the city’s cathedral cathedral while Annabel scribbles on the back of a napkin It’s a piem she says as if that’s supposed to mean something to me Don’t you mean a poem A piem is a poem written in Pilish Annabel has told me about Pilish so this gives me a clue You mean the language where the number of letters in each word matches the numbers of Pi Exactly Annabel puts on a wicked smile and goes on The language that Greg and I shared when we visited your mom in Canada Annabel hasn’t stopped teasing me ever since we visited the dinosaur dig in Alberta I’d gotten upset that this guy who knew almost as much about the number Pi as she did was hitting on her 2 John Wilson