MK told me a story last night that gave me a warm fuzzy.
Apparently, there is a group of people who gather in Hawaii every five years, to commemorate their having survived the attack on 7 Dec 1941. This year's reunion is likely to be the last, as time has done what the bombs couldn't do.
Anyway, one of the guys who attends always brings his wife. Who comes from Japan. Who he met at an earlier one of these reunions.
Maybe we all really can get along. At least after a while. Maybe time really does heal all wounds.
Don't know why. I've fallen in love. With sentence fragments.
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