Ron and I were exchanging jokes on the loading dock at the newspaper, the smell of newsprint and fresh ink creased the air. It was winter 2017 and the breeze caught the blue smoke from his cigarette and whisped it across the street where it scattered and dissipated over the muddy park. As usual, our…

  The doors leisurely opened and a tall, willowy woman, her skin the color of cinnamon glided out, braids of silver hair dangling regally down her neck. She wore a long silk dress, the hue of a pale morning sky. Despite the heat, a royal blue shawl adorned her shoulders.  “My friend,” she said in…