THE NARRATIVE ARC
How I Once Met a Man Who Remembered Me from the Future
There are gentle souls that go through life observing and gathering wisdom
In my early days in Lima, I lived in a guest house called the Casa Roja. I wasn’t exactly sure why I was there or what the universe had to tell me. It has taken me more than twenty years to figure it out.
The place cost $200 a month. It included a breakfast and featured a nice variety of characters. I got to know some of them better than others.
There was one fellow who had a job as a river guide on the Amazon. He’d be gone for long stretches. It must have been strange for him to go to the wild outreaches of the jungle and then return to the beating heart of the city.
When he came back, he was always excited to go to the taco place down the corner. The tacos were a bit of a gut bomb. They were absolutely delicious, of course. Imagine an ice cream scoop of guacamole slammed into the center of a tortilla shell with shredded chicken down at the bottom.
It was like a chicken and guacamole cone that you drank as much as ate. They were so good that I’d put up not going out in the evening to spare my tormented stomach.
