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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