I closed my eyes. I dragged the memory of that day out of the darkness of time. I stepped through it, in my head, blurred image by blurred image, until finally, I saw it.
She moved across the pool deck with a languor, an unabashed sexual energy that made me feel like I was watching porn.
She let me go. Not that she could have stopped me. Children will end up a world away, whether you want them to or not—unaware of the havoc being wreaked upon their histories back home.
I did not feel lonely, but I felt the memory of loneliness.
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