Misty, gray morning. Sunday. No church bells, but birds chirping in the distance (or am I just imagining it?). The air smells as always, not actually like Sunday, but rather like TukTuk exhaust and kitchen smells in the back of the restaurant, where I'm eating a cinnamon bagel with butter and homemade (!) jam. Plus, of course, one of my beloved coffee mon...
Elephant Camp
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