January 19, 2005

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind there resides an old photograph of the moon. Merged with the sepia-toned craters depicted in this photograph is the blurry portrait of a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, smiling out into the darkness of space. She may be a nanny, or a young mother, I know not which, but the thought of her grants me a touch of calm, and I think that this photograph must have been with me at some point, in some lifetime or other.

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