Here goes a sample story, for you to better conceptualize what this long-winded endeavour to roughly get to know each other is truly all about:
Soared into the wind
My father has the ugly habit of taunting me by stating that my knowledge of the city that witnessed my birth and uprising to the boor I have grown to become is restricted to what this colourful reticulum, also called metro map, comprises. He is partially right. I have this underground mole so injected in my own blood that any extended exposure to the surface gives my moral principles rashes right away. The folks loaf about, wander as if possessed by the Holy Spirit. “People, don’t know how to walk along the street”, I mutter now once again to my Andalusian bloke, who follows me breathless, while I settle down to provide a punchy express course on the matter in hand. Go wherever you got to go and wait to figure out the little animals clouds enclose upon arrival. But then again, speaking of circus, ain’t no ...Read more →