She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone. No mother would have sent her daughter into the world with such a wardrobe. Only she sent me a message, and together we found a cottage for her to stay at.
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