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"I said all this in Moscow?" I said perplexed.
"Ask Nicolai. He told me that he heard you say it. Unfortunately, I can't remember hearing it myself. I was a bit like you were. I was only hearing what I had been dealing with myself, at the time."
Occasionally periods of silence erupted in our conversation, especially while we ate. One of these silent moments ended when Anton looked up at me and began to grin. "Tell me once more," she said, "what the letters CSB stand for. Remember, Heather suggested that I should ask you to tell me. She said that I should ask you when we found ourselves in a romantic setting. So here we are. I really can't imagine a more romantic setting than what we have right now. So tell me again, what do the letters CSB stand for?"
"What do you think they stand for," I asked, since she already knew the answer.
"I think the 's' stands for sex," said Anton and smiled. "I know you are fascinated by sex, and why shouldn't you be? We all should be fascinated with sex. We human beings, are a highly spiritual, sexual species. We can't deny that, at least we shouldn't. You are certainly too intelligent to deny that. And the 'b' may stand for beauty, for beautiful people. I know beautiful people fascinate you, especially by beautiful women. But what does the 'c' stand for? I can't puzzle this one out."
Luckily I had my mouth full of food, so I didn't need to answer spontaneously. I raised my hand to hold her in attention. "The 'c' stands for coffee," I said calmly after I had swallowed the food.
"Coffee?" she repeated questioningly, and blushed, as if she didn't know.
"Yes, Anton, 'c' stand for 'coffee,' as in Coffee, Sex, and Biscuits.
"Oh you!" she said and smiled, and began to laugh. "I doesn't!"
"I really does, Anton." I told her all about my dream again and how the CSB came be formulated, only in greater detail, now. "But Heather," I explained, "suggested that CSB should have a different meaning. She likes the CSB to signify, Clear headed living, Sex, and Beautiful mornings." I paused, something was missing. "She likes it better that way," I added.
Anton now grinned from ear to ear, "Why would you seek to have just beautiful mornings? Why not always? Why should we limit ourselves? We should seek beautiful times, all the time."
"Is that why you are wearing a golden belt tonight, and soft Chinese shoes?" I asked. I couldn't suppress a grin.
She didn't reply anything. She only smiled. A while later she added, "Do you remember my letter? Do you remember me asking in it what had happened to those golden days? Do you remember that I suggested that if we ever meet again we should embrace each other fully as sexual beings, so that sex will never be a factor that stands in between us? I didn't know how wrong I was when I wrote this. Today, I say we should embrace our sex not out of fear. How silly it was of me to regard fear as a motivating factor, like the fear that my resistance to sex might become a wedge once again to stand between us. No Peter, we should embrace our sex not out of fear, but out of self-love. Sex is one of the many dimensions of our humanity. It is a dimension that makes us exciting and beautiful to one-another. We shouldn't deny that, we should embrace it and uplift it. We should raise it high above the animal level where it stands merely as a means for procreation. We should see it on a higher level as something good, beautiful, and valuable of ourselves, something that is a part of our boundless individuality of our being human, that we all share."
"What you are saying now so freely would have seemed like a miracle back then in Moscow when we met high up on the tower for dinner," I said to her. "In a way, it sounds miraculous still. What caused this momentous change in you, Anton?"
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