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جمعه 17 آبان‌ماه سال 1387
Nicco

It’s amazing how things get related to each other without any obvious reason; like tonight, I don’t know why I remembered Nicco when Helene was talking about Calgary.  Well, now that I’m thinking I guess I know why. Where Nick and I worked was close to Helene’s place, oh now I know how much I loved that area, something rare among very few things in Calgary I ever had a feeling for. Foothills Hospital was an unforgettable place, it was where I found a good Persian prof. (though I didn’t have a chance to work with him, I moved soon afterwards), it was Helene’s house, smell of French foods and oh, such a friendly atmosphere in that bitter area of all strange people, and it was of course Gus’s where Nicco and I used to work together. I never knew why I liked Nicco, I think it’s about the wavelengths; he was my type, serious but compassionate, rather in an invisible way, boss but caring, and he was such a big brother type. Love? No, I won’t say that way, maybe if I stayed longer things might have happened (and I’m kind of happy I didn’t, we were different in some other major aspects). And the other girl got so happy I moved; Nicco didn’t care…. I remembered tonight about Nicco and that how I did all that crazy job with no pain, no nagging, “It is kind of fun!” I was thinking. I remember those cold dark evenings of Calgary, I remember that lovely bus driver, she was so neat I wouldn’t ever guess her job if I didn’t know, I remember my annoying roommate, I remember the everlasting smell of pizza, and I wonder how all the package together looks so pleasant after the time is over. There is the saying, time keeps memories but only good ones.