It has been about twenty-four hours since I am back in Motovun. The day is gorgeous. The sun has just set. The mood is kind of festive, or so it seems to me at the moment. In the spirit of true Christmas, I must admit that I feel a bit funny. I could not care less about the few dour faces I have encountered around the town, for I have become used to them over the years. But I feel sort of guilty toward all those who have welcomed me back with feeling. Many of them know exactly how long I have been missing. To the day. The more welcoming they have been, the guiltier I have felt, too. For I have pushed them all out of my mind for too long. Even the innocent ones. Nay, even the true friends.