human
I think while he was away, finding out terrible, unspeakable things, my father forgot about me--or else he didn't realize I was big enough to mind. He never wrote. When he came back, after eleven months, he was an old man, with gray hair. I'll never forget the night he came, and how he told me about mother. It was a moonlight night, like this--with no light in the room. It was the last night of my childhood.