My thoughts returned to Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw unexpectedly tonight, but these thoughts have a way of appearing unbidden.

Often, a trivial event serves as the catalyst. Tonight, it was the subtle sound of pages clinging together when I reached for a weathered book left beside the window for too long. Moisture has a way of doing that. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and his name drifted back to me, softly and without

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