The sun is setting. There is precious little light to write my song of praise to you -- only the glow from the dashboard of a 1983 Toyota taking me deeper into the sudden mountains of Mexico.
Victor, the driver, sees what I'm doing and turns on the overhead light, but I prefer the glow of the dashboard.
It's softer on the eyes and my heart rejoices in the romance of needing to write in order to see.
Posted by Mitch Ditkoff at March 3, 2010 10:44 PM
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