Last night, Maus and I watched the last stage of the Tour de France and we felt a real affinity with the riders. We acknowledged how weary they must have been after all the stages they had endured. We could understand the pain of the mountain climbs and the disappointments when team mates fell. We, too, had survived an endurance for we were down to our last bucket of pomegranates. Continue reading
The last of the pomegranates
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