CazinoLA

4 p.m. The repeated ringing of the bell pulls me from my dreams.In pajamas, I open the door. The surprised look on the delivery man's face reminds me of the gap between this world and the other. He hands me a package and something to sign. I scribble my signature and close the door.I look at the parcel-quite large-with a small card....My Brother, many thanks for Florenska, your old Droog*, the phoenix of the Balkans...A smile spreads across my face. I thought he was dead! The press had announced it.This story is improbable. I had seen the photo of his body riddled with bullets.Perplexed, I open the package...A beautiful wooden box with the famous PP* logo.Excited, I lift the lid...That madman!Platinum and rubies shine with a thousand sparks. It's magnificent. Nautilus.Nothing is accidental in his choice. Impossible coming from him...All of it takes me back several years...To the great days of CazinoLA...