Sunday, March 14, 2010

I went to visit you today.  I don't know you.  And all this was just for a story.  But you spoke with me.  For hours.  In that waiting room.  You were incredibly charming, and incredibly young.  And I wish we'd met under different circumstances.  You made everything sound okay, as if living these years behind stone walls wasn't so bad.  You're probably stronger than most of us will ever be.

Everything that happened today feels like a dream.  As if you're not locked up, beyond the curve of the mountain, in that town up north.

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