Her name is Sarah
Her name is Sarah. We meet on the beach of an island in a wide and gentle stretch of a large river. She has been waiting for me and takes me by the arm up a path to a place where we sit on logs and talk. She is my granddaughter. She is grandmother to some she can name and many neither of us will hold in our arms. She is alive in a time when I have faded from memory, 300 years from now.
:- Doug.
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