Late. Late. Late. Late. Late. Late. Late. A much belated birthday present. Sorry about that.
“When you feel that itchy little twinkle in the eye of your mouth.”
This is a quiet one. A few summers ago, we would go running late in the evening around this park near our apartment. Sometimes, when it was just the right time of dusk, we’d see bats flitting around, hunting insects, momentarily caught in the glow of the park’s sodium lights. Mostly, you’d just catch a shadow zooming past the corner of your eye. I remember it took me a bit of time to work out that they weren’t birds. Anyway, they made good running companions.
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