11.24.2017

- in the name of Allah 


Of a journey once, upon a Thanksgiving day, went down the route of twenty-nine, to glimpse the fam of Her-Who'll-Always-Be-Named. There it was, somewhere along the Gershwin's Way, hidden in the midst of thirteen thousand twenty-five, a beacon bright to shine, by sadness kept at bay. While the plans of then found not their present,this moment stays in mind remembered, not just for the turkey and potatoes mashed, but for those precious seconds, when nearly whole became two halves.


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