You started saying goodbye the day we said hello.
One Two: He just asked if I wanted to dance. That’s all.
Mumbles: Was it a slow dance?
My only comfort was the knowledge that I was not alone. Huddled in the hallways and making the most of our pathetic French, my fellow students and I engaged in the sort of conversation commonly overheard in refugee camps.
“Sometime me cry alone at night.”
“That be common for I, also, but be more strong, you. Much work and someday you talk pretty. People start love you soon. Maybe tomorrow, okay.”” —David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day