It wasn't my intention to dwell on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, yet that is often the nature of such things.

A tiny spark is usually enough to ignite the memory. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another as I turned the pages of a long-neglected book left beside the window for too long. Humidity does that. I paused longer than necessary, ungluing each page with care, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without warning.The

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