I knocked at the door of the house where the veterans had
directed me. The door opened.
On a couch in the back of the room sat a woman. I recognized her right
away even though it had been 50 years. Marilee. Who checked out books at
the local library.
Smooth dark hair, blue eyes. The guarded way she had looked at me as I sat reading at the long wooden
table one afternoon when it was too hot to go home. Both of us wearing
blue cotton dresses.
A few months after I arrived, she had married a fellow in Luke's unit.
Like the veterans, I couldn't remember his name.