With no discussion or plan, each of us — me, Alistair, Michael, Rasmus, and Hele— ended up down at the Oyak in the late afternoon where, for pennies a serving, you could enjoy a three ounce paper cup of wine. Just one. “But we’re adults,” I said to the young man behind the counter. “We’reContinue reading “A Dixie cup of your finest merlot, please”
Heather Choate Davis 