The voice sounded like it was coming from down a tunnel.
It was small, faded, the way a voice gently waking you up leaves a trace of its music in your ear. It wasn’t behind me or in front of me. It was unmistakably mine, my voice. But it was shrunken and hushed. The voice of a child:
I’m going to tell.
A pledge, an invitation.
I was five days into a 10-day…
