I make everyone wait while I refresh my memory, but to be honest it all comes back so fast and so completely that I barely need to. Years gone now, and so many things I’d choose to remember. I have the shape of them, the gap they have left in me, but I cannot recapture what they were. The sound of my son’s voice, the feeling in my heart when Augustine first kissed me. The warmth of my father’s smile. Instead of any of them, I have this. This farrago of lies.