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The first thing I remember?

Everything.

I remember Miriam singing in triumph on the bank of the reed sea, and I remember the news that Earth was gone in nuclear fire, homeland lost forever. I remember eighteen-hour days in near-dark textile mills and the screaming of artillery shells as they raced overhead. I remember countless triumphs, and tragedies to outnumber them by far. Exodus after exodus, flight after flight from persecution after persecution, safety found only to have it lost again...

Languages dead for millennia echo in my ears within the halls of my Other Memory, and books that fell to dust before man first took stumbling steps into space whisper as their pages turn.

Moments of passion between even my most distant ancestresses and the men they chose or had chosen for them, moments of wracking grief and bitter rage over wars and pains gone away so many centuries ago fill my memories.

As they have since the moment my twin and I became self-aware within our mother's womb.
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