The Stars Forget
Language: en
The day I was released from prison, a woman claiming to be my ex-wife came to take me home. I flinched away when she reached for my hand. “I don’t know you.” The woman’s brow furrowed, as if she thought I was still holding a grudge. “We agreed five years ago. When you got out, we’d get remarried.” She softened her tone slightly. “Mom is getting older. She’s missed you.” Hearing that, I opened the diary I carried with me. Written on the page was a single instruction. [If a woman says she is your ex-wife, go home with her.] Following the diary’s command, I agreed. Back home, I became the…