Danus paused to lean on his pitchfork, and make some unheard remark, and Antonia laughed. And the sound of her laughter brought back, with a piercing clarity, ringing across the years, the memory of other laughter, and the unexpected ecstasies and physical joys that happen, perhaps, only once in any person’s lifetime. It was good. And nothing good is ever lost. It stays part of a person, becomes part of one’s character. Other voices, other worlds.
