“Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes/Five hundred twenty-five thousand moments so dear/ Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes/How do you measure, measure a year?” — RENT, Jonathan Larson […]
The little boy’s face in front of me is smeared with dirt, coupled with snot. But, he doesn’t care. Instead, he pushes his tiny, dark face ...
It is pitch black when Lek knocks on the door of my room at the guest house. “Ok, we go,” she says softly through the wood. “The ele ...
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