A short one.

I was sitting at a table at an ice cream shop in Kleve, Germany. A couple of girls were playing and climbing a bronze statue next to where I was sitting. I was watching them, until it occurred to me that I skipped the first 42 years of my life.

My memories of those first 42 years seem to belong to someone else. A scary thought. Frightful even. I mean, I’m only myself, Emma. Who was that bloke?

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