For a brief second I felt that I had caused it， that<br >something in me had picked up a spark from a burning city<br >and thrown it ahead thousands of miles. The thought was<br >only a blurred moment， a shadow， across the larger picture ot<br >grief and shock. I brushed it away immediately. But when I<br >try to re-create the scene in my mind， the stab of guilt<br >becomes the most vivid memory. I can no longer brush it<br >away， and I know now why it comes to me.<br ><br >
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讀後感
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