In the car, I spent time listening to my mother as she tried to recall a world that now seemed so alien to her. My hope was that our short visit to Cracow might soften the effect of too much reflection and ease the emotional pummeling my mother was taking, but as we walked in the late afternoon light it became evident that it was impossible not to feel the thrust of her history pushing at our backs. 

I was feeling fidgety as we walked, knowing we needed time to decompress before continuing our quest. I spent time in my room trying to relax and shoot some pictures. Bryan Ferry was playing on MTV while the wind shuffled in through the double window. The clock barely moved, and the air grew still. I tried to sleep but could not dislodge a gnawing sense of foreboding.  

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