I think of them now and then. He lowered his head and finished his homework while she was talking to the person next to her, laughing when she was happy. The fan was humming, and the white clouds outside the window looked like protruding fists.
I don't remember what clothes he wore that day, whether she had long or short hair, and I even forgot which memories were real and which were fictional.
But I know they were here.
Because I am a bystander in the game of fate and I am the only blind spot.