In the run of interminable and depthless and often disastrous sadness, there comes those rare blessed moments of tranquility. I've been surrounded in sadness, steeped in it, I've seen misery and betrayal greater than I have known. I am tired, off-kilter, punchless, happy, alone, surrounded. I am listening to music from Madagascar. It sounds good. Suddenly the clouds have parted, like in the picture of the road to Antisirabe, and I find that perhaps my bout of sadness is to be short lived, and the next tide of happiness may stay a little longer. He came to the river. The river was there.

Adam and I are collaborating on a story. Gasy Manambara. Sarah and I have been thus for a year. Manatara. Right here I'm happy but not content. There are far larger memories on their way, hopefully off in the far corners of the earth. Volitiana for vaovao tsara. There are souls on the breeze, speaking, warning of approaching darkness but promising a change of direction.

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