Dear Reader,
Shall I make for you a litany of terrors and miseries? Shall we recite these realities each day, hoping to erase them with monotony? Let's leave it to your imagination; you can paint your picture of what could go here; the sorrows, the atrocities. I don't feel like making of our situation a pretty, cathartic image with words.
I think, instead, I will send you some songs this summer, maybe a recipe; and you will know, as you listen and stir, that the tears are falling.
