Enow

Searching the city, no one could remember the amnesiac lady who charmed so many, or so I thought. Alain said I was crazy, and Hortus said so in kinder words on a bench at the Old Port. Yet it was Walking Eagle, who showed me those damning Polaroids, that showed me what I never wished to know: that Dawn was always a fiction, and that my father was right about me being crazy ever since my mother committed suicide. What a delusion I was in! Confining myself to my room, it was time to face reality.