I couldn’t shake the dream images from my mind. I wondered whether the images might have come from her, as her way of starting a conversation in the only way she knew how: by sharing the horror that was her… our… my… legacy. I wasn’t ready for it.
I arose from the couch where I had spent the night. The couple whose farm house I had entered never knew I was there. I took some bread and a couple of potatoes from the kitchen and quietly left the house. The eastern sky was just beginning to lighten, but it was already obvious that the day would be overcast.
I returned to the rail line and continued to the west. In the last few days, I had passed by several towns with train stations, but I felt that it would be best to get out of the area on foot before trying to board a train. I had walked through villages and past farms. There were people everywhere, but I could trust no one. It was best to avoid them all.
I was so lonely.
Shortly after dawn, it began to rain: an early spring rain, hard and cold.