where the day meets the night: gioia alleria crepuscolo fountain pen

It is a cloudy afternoon, silvery sky a certain promise of rain after dark. The window is cracked open, letting in the smell of a storm brewing. Inside is warm, but the breeze has a bite to it, seeping into your bones. The kettle whistles, boiling water for the fragrant tea in the pot. A group of children pass under the window, chatting and laughing. While we wait for the water to boil, I start my story.