As he traced that heart in the air with two fingers, I knew… love had struck… again.
Or perhaps not. Here, where time flows and contracts like the accordion song of a Comrat native (never mind the occasional wheeze), a few busy weeks can marinate a day’s experience. Some memories stare back, more assertive than others; conversation ensues, and humorous reflection, and our common experiences distill a slick truth. Continue reading “A R(o)ug(h) Escapade”