It seems to me that when you look back at a life – yours or another’s – what you see is a path that weaves into and out of deep shadow. So much is lost. What we use to construct the past is what has remained in the open, a hodgepodge of fleeting glimpses. Our histories, like my father’s current body, are structures built of toothpicks. So what I recall of that last summer in New Bremen is a construct of both what stands in the light and what I imagine in the dark where I cannot see.

Has anybody ever told you you’re an evil woman?” -Reece
“Who, me?” -Erin
“Yes, you.” -Reece
“Li’l ole me?” -Erin
“Sadistic goddess you, yes.” -Reece
“Do you want me to stop?” -Erin
“Do you want me to hold you down and bang you like a screen door?” -Reece
“Don’t threaten the sadistic
goddess, Reece.” -Erin

To one visitor Alexandrian life was “just one continuous revel, not a sweet or gentle revel either, but savage and harsh, a revel of dancers, whistlers, and murderers all combined.

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