This morning I returned from New York (12 hrs, 26 mins) and fell into a deeply sleep. A few hours later, I got the message via my mother and the NSA that John was in Fujairah!! A tank of gas and a couple of Islamic shwarma later, we had reached the Indian sea coast.
My wall-eyed but beloved little bubba.
'Launch boats,' onto one of which John hopped and slowly sped away.
Now Don and I are in this late-nite shisha fortress, waiting for the sun.
It has a spiral arm galaxy.
Can you read this? A variety of Greasy grouper and deep-fried Sultan Ibrahim is available.