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The Harmonic Resonance of Grace

Gavin's Digital Diner

In their voices, was the sound of the wind as it swept out of the Carpathians; in their voices was the call of the Muezzin wafting out of the Middle East, across Turkey, into the heart of Bulgaria. The place was packed, but I managed to plop into an empty space, on the far left, two pews back from the crossing, a fantastic seat.

The Harmonic Resonance of Grace

Gavin's Digital Diner

In their voices, was the sound of the wind as it swept out of the Carpathians; in their voices was the call of the Muezzin wafting out of the Middle East, across Turkey, into the heart of Bulgaria. The place was packed, but I managed to plop into an empty space, on the far left, two pews back from the crossing, a fantastic seat.

The Harmonic Resonance of Grace

Gavin's Digital Diner

In their voices, was the sound of the wind as it swept out of the Carpathians; in their voices was the call of the Muezzin wafting out of the Middle East, across Turkey, into the heart of Bulgaria. The place was packed, but I managed to plop into an empty space, on the far left, two pews back from the crossing, a fantastic seat. ShareThis

The Harmonic Resonance of Grace

Gavin's Digital Diner

In their voices, was the sound of the wind as it swept out of the Carpathians; in their voices was the call of the Muezzin wafting out of the Middle East, across Turkey, into the heart of Bulgaria. The place was packed, but I managed to plop into an empty space, on the far left, two pews back from the crossing, a fantastic seat. ShareThis