It comes on you suddenly as the dancers and this moonlit body clear the stage: the day your father told you the tale of the stolen Moon, and Her journey to reclaim Her country. You do not remember why he told you this tale, after all, he seemed perpetually annoyed by your lola’s efforts to share with you everything she knew of the Old Country, but what you do remember is the great pains he took to describe the battles and the swordplay, and how he kept interrupting his own tale to assure you that this wasn’t a love story. That it was about camaraderie; that it was about a revolution; the
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