What’s a moment when a stranger completely restored your faith in people?
Tangier, 1954. A soldier who cannot sleep drops into a harbour café and finds himself talking to the one man in the city he would never have looked at twice. A night-soil collector. A man who carries away what no one wishes to keep. Over one glass of brandy and one glass of cold mint tea, between the smoke and the ceiling fans and the warped window glass, a question surfaces that neither man expected to ask. And the answer is smaller, quieter, and more devastating than either of them imagined. Two chairs. Two hours. One candle in the dark.
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Bob Lynn | © 2026 Vox Meditantis. All rights reserved.
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