You can read the previous installment here

Dedication for this essay goes to SOFREP brother Shooten

And then it happened …

It got a little chilly just as the sun made the day’s final bow and exited stage east. I mean, sure it gets chilly with the leave of the sun, but this night was not as usual.

I stood at the edge of a wide expanse of a courtyard where the city’s visceral flex of flea marketing was in full swing. I watched a young girl shake hands with several men. Each time she brought her left hand simultaneously up and tapped her breast over her heart.

“Oh, camel shit,” I thought, “Is that something I should have been doing this whole time?” Leave it to me to pick likely the most insignificant drone of a detail to worry about. Nevermind that I had tried and failed to make 18 scheduled contacts in six days thus far.

Had I been too early?

Had I been too late?