"That's the truth, even if it didn't happen!" Chief Broom
The compass of the heart that spins crazy in the tropics, holds fast and rigid when it finally leads us to true north, where age does not thaw easily into the passions of youth, and the heart pumps with slow deliberation: a lost love, an impossible chance encounter. Is it frozen, or just hibernating?
Normally I can read a post, invent something brilliant/stupid to say, and publish. I had to read this, let it simmer over night, and come back to it. The re-read this morning helped me discern what was beneath the surface. Excellent story.