A Story with a Beginning and an End, and a Pleasant Interval in between
I met friends today from East Jerusalem. We had lunch and then sat in Hamra to drink tea. These two men sat across me. I didn’t hear a word, but understood a lot. That sometimes it’s your turn, and sometimes it’s mine, and that everything has a beginning and an end, and that the interval in between is important.







Tomorrow, only here in Yaara’s Back Yard – pissing on the wall.

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