Ready? It was not a story to pass on.

They forgot her like a bad dream.

After they made up their tales, shaped and decorated them, those that saw her that day on the porch quickly and deliberately forgot her.

It took longer for those who had spoken to her, lived with her, fallen in love with her to forget, until they realized they couldn't remember or repeat a single thing she said, and began to believe that other than what they themselves were thinking, she hadn't said anything at all.

So, in the end, they forgot her, too.

Remembering seemed unwise.

They never knew where or why she crouched, or whose was the underwater face she needed like that.

This is not a story to pass on.