508 - I'm Really Into the Story

…the boy.  I don't remember his name either.  No more than I remember my own.  The word comes back when I think that.  I ignore it and concentrate on finding signs of their travel.  A large enough group to have killed all of us… who is us?  We… we… were… protecting!  Yes.  Protecting the boy!
It felt so good to have a memory, something to pull out of this fog in my head.  Fog. More like mud.