Gardening

As I dig with bare hands; black and swarthy from the compost bin. And fill the bucket that, I then carry. I find a worm. I remember my mother telling me, that worms enrich soil. I must have been three years old. I have not remembered this before. Yet I do so now, as I... Continue Reading →

An awkward cigarette

'Tu fume?’ asks the waiter who served me breakfast. ‘Des fois’, I say. I don’t, really. Well, I do about once a month, as a social thing. Sometimes, especially abroad, smoking is a good way to build social connections. And with social connections comes knowledge. The waiter invites me outside. We stand facing the undulating... Continue Reading →

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