RecipeMuncher

I listened to a story teller a few nights back. Not a man telling a story, but a man whose entire being and was occupied with the business of weaving his tale.  His cadence was long and loping but deliberate, and it suited his southern drawl. The words meandered along the way to their destination, unhurried. If I squinted my eyes, it wasn’t hard to imagine those words puffing out from his lips and into the air like smoke upon an exhale from a cigar. The effect was entirely soothing, (...)