You see Antonin Popovitch sitting in a chair.  In a waiting room with glass windows.  You see him like a surveillance camera would see him from a ceiling corner perch.  Black and white—no sound.  A DETECTIVE comes in.  Maybe one of the officers on the scene at the lighthouse earlier that morning, but you don’t know—you only guess.  In the way he approaches Popovitch.  No sound, and all you really see is the detective’s feet.  Because of the camera angle.  And you see Popovitch lean forward.  His head down to his knees if he could only reach them.  His hands clasped over his head.


And where does what you forget go?  And how do we remember it again?  This how an end is maybe a new beginning.  How you recall things.  Maybe a note to yourself on something you want to change.  Something you learned.  Some insight to a truth—a different way of looking at a memory that already happened.  But where does it go that we may recall it again?  A name.  A number.  A password…  Maybe it’s a face.  A face from your past.  And you try to place it.  You place it in a situation—many situations in a moment’s thought—trying to capture why you remember something about it, something about that face that tells you you’ve seen it before…  Maybe I saw him.  My daughter’s murderer.  Maybe in a grocery aisle as I bought bread—he was there—just a casual shopper browsing the same shelf…  There really is no point of view that’s true.  But it is true to you if you believe it.  What’s easy to forget sometimes is there’s nothing to prove by it—you don’t really have to prove anything.  You just have to really believe it.  And be willing to stand up for it from time to time…  I will not go into the past.  I will not remember those last days in Petrograd before I escaped to America with my family.  But now I must look at what my past has wrought.  Soon they will call me into a room to identify her.  My child… So do not go searching for it.  What you forget you are meant to forget.  And when you remember it try to remember why.  But if you can’t that’s okay too.  Because there is a happy ending to the judgment you are facing.  You don’t have to try to remember anymore.  You don’t have to try to recall all the options to your defense…  What finally absolves you the sacrifice.  Your sacrifice, and others, to the monument that sets us all free.  You see that’s the never-ending deal…