Some days are so terrible that we never forget them, but this day, Michael would hardly ever remember. We all watched it through Myra's camera, or read about it in books. We know every detail about this encounter, and everything that unfolded. We know how it transpired. We know the words that were exchanged.
Many count the failures, judgingly presuming that they would do better. A few exaggerate the victories, wishing to match them. Most rather look to other events in history that are not quite so ugly.
I can see it through Michael's eyes. Whenever I want, I can hear the words in his mind -- those spoken aloud -- and hear the sounds of confidence and doubt. Of courage and fear.
Of hope and despair.
It is an odd thing to carry such a weighty burden when I wasn't even there. Even thou
