There is the November sky, clean of summer dust, blown clear this day of the urban smog that so often hazes autumn... There is the touch of November air, chill enough to have a slight tang, like properly aged cider. Not air that caresses, nor yet air that nips. Air that makes one...
“Well, maybe I should rather say it is a story,” aunt said, “I heard that there was a wise teacher who took all his students for tea. They were surprised that all the cups on the table were different. Each of them took a cup and started drinking their tea, each looking at the...