I know from experience how both locks and promises can be so easily broken. I promise on your beloved mother’s life that I shall return for you . . . Pray for me, wait for me . . . I am shaking my head, trying to lose the memory of Papa’s last words to me. Yet somehow, even though others I wish to recall float like dandelion seeds away from my brain’s grasp the minute I try to harness them, that sentence will not budge whatever I do.
