It wasn't my intention to dwell on Tharmanay Kyaw Sayadaw again tonight, but these thoughts have a way of appearing unbidden.

It is often a minor detail that sets it off. In this instance, it was the noise of pages adhering to one another when I tried to flip through an old book resting in proximity to the window. It's a common result of humidity. I found myself hesitating for a long moment, pulling the pages apart one at a time, and his name drifted back to me, softly an

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