
I was sitting in the back of a car, wondering how I’d gotten there. My friend at the time was riding shotgun and our driver could be described as wearing a black turban with his white hair peeking out beneath it; a Sikh. I don’t know how they’d met each other but she’d asked me along, now that I think about it, to bring life to their party. Not a well thought out move on her part. He was very quiet, sure, but I can’t say I’m much better.
Continue reading “A Marriage of Convenience; The Beginning.”