Even in Arcadia Am I is a user on octodon.social. You can follow them or interact with them if you have an account anywhere in the fediverse.
If you don't, you can sign up here.
11/ All of which, very roundaboutly, brings me to the story I'd been thinking of telling, of an agarwood dealer I met one night a few days before I left last summer. I was drinking a beer with a friend, an older Indian man who I'd gotten to know a little bit over the past few days. We were sitting in an out of the way office listening to "sentimental music" (Lou Reed's "Perfect Day" came on his little radio) when his friend dropped by.
