Memories Without Memory

The wind rustles through the trees on a mid October day, "Vini isit." If you aren't listening, you almost won't hear her say, "Di mô nom fiy." But once you catch it, you'll notice li briyé-yé, "Di mô nom piti-fiy! Pa donné ye sere mwa file!" Alor, ça arét. As quickly as she came, she…