Amongst the weeds and thrushes the baby's basket bobbed as it floated in the waist-deep water.
And a miracle, that is to say, an event that cannot be explained by physical laws, and a moment, that is to say, an event that takes place in time, and a memory, that is an event embedded in the context of perception, gathered together as if to say, "I want to live; I don't want to die."
The innocuous plea of the mortal life resonates across time and across cultures.
Gone are the days. Gone are the recollections in the waves of grief.
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