“And in that spirit, I decided to go and visit
her old place near where we grew up.

Fifty years had passed. I put on some nice clothes
and combed my hair.

When I arrived, the house was for sale.

There was a light on inside, but when I glanced at my watch,
it was too late to knock.

So I looked instead through a keyhole.

My heart, Weng, was throwing itself against my ribs

as if trying to get into the house.

Then—couldn’t help myself!

. . . I lightly rapped on the door.