Roadkill, baby.

Friday, July 20

Rrrrring---
Somewhere in Romania, a phone booth sounds, like a scene out of a 90's gangster-kidnap movie. Back here, I'm only aware of hitting the call-back function on my handphone, amused at the fact that phone booths aren't anonymous over in Europe. The only difference is I'm paying a bomb instead of threatening to set off one. Still, who can say they've dialed a phone booth in Romania?

Mania. She licks her cream-covered fingertips, savouring every last bit of the yellow-fleshed delicacy. People turn up their noses as they rake in the smell, but damn, she revels in it. This is the season to be jolly, you know. And as if this fruit wasn't miraculous enough, the husks themselves extraordinarily help rid her of the lingering scent - until next time.

Time! Snarls, grunts, pants - the bevy of noises in a single 3 minute round. We've seen everything from spell-binding to nerve-wrecking, from regret to relief; we've seen the fire in some eyes and we've felt it in ours. 5 on 5, a team effort, and much more to lose. Did we see the fire that day? I can't say for sure, but one thing's certain - next year we've got to burn again.

Gain, in other words. "But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." Phil 3:8. Kind of turns things on their heads, doesn't it? Still, it's good to know that despite whatever else, surpassing worth is exactly what Patricia has now.

Now, we love.

11:43 PM