Hanging around

Two strangers meet. Romanced to marriage, or married to togetherness, any which way, they cover distances together. Uphill, down the slope, in the rains, afraid of lightning, they carry on. Daily morning tea, evening walks at the middle of the innings, clasping the mutual palms at the middle of the night – the line between the routine and the romance blurs, disappears.

My blog is to document these tid-bits, the comforting musk of habits, the hidden fragrance of desires.

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