Memory Recall – Petromax
The hissing of pumped air, the sweet putrid aroma of alcohol and kerosene, the spark of the red-tipped match that started it all, and the beginning of night in a far-flung village detached from the gallows of city lights.
Memoirs and songs.
The hissing of pumped air, the sweet putrid aroma of alcohol and kerosene, the spark of the red-tipped match that started it all, and the beginning of night in a far-flung village detached from the gallows of city lights.
Flores de Mayo was a time for us kids to enjoy while the heat of tropical summer was dying down. We would gather all kinds of flowers from our neighbours as well as from the wild. Kids who lived near the forests always had more […]
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