For a brief second I felt that I had caused it, that something in me had picked up a spark from a burning city and thrown it ahead thousands of miles. The thought was only a blurred moment, a shadow, across the larger picture ot grief and shock. I brushed it away immediately. But when I try to re-create the scene in my mind, the stab of guilt becomes the most vivid memory. I can no longer brush it away, and I know now why it comes to me.
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