Sunday, April 23, 2006
Two-forty-eight am. And yet another wide-ranging conversation that spans the far reaches of the globe, end-to-end in fluent ease. Taking them through fire and wind, earth and water. If there ever were a similar analogy, these weeks would witness the layering of foundations for the unorthodox bond.
They chattered like swallows gossiping among fresh green branches, till time was stranded high up on forgotten shelves, its significance diminishing and waning. Him, and the pretty little paradox.
They chattered like swallows gossiping among fresh green branches, till time was stranded high up on forgotten shelves, its significance diminishing and waning. Him, and the pretty little paradox.
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