Blast from the past

I am constantly amazed by how infinitesimally small the world is, the oyster, in the palm of the hand, the universe encapsulated in the pearl that shines, in its home, rough and sandy, blanched and beautiful. Lost and found. There are stories to be told, soon, there will be more, stories to invent, to create to recast in a new light. As we all know, I have this strange tendency to serendipitous encounters on travels, like the time M., I. and I were in Puerto Rico, in el Yunque national forest, and at a random overlook I ran into a fellow friend and exchange student, from New Orleans who had been in Mexico with me. Or the time in Aruba, when we met, Leo, after I had lost your phone number (but I'll save this story and tell it for real after my exams are over, or maybe I'll just save it for us?).

I started writing my story of Divine Intervention, about when Jenny met me and K. serendipitously in Oaxaca...