I’m sure I remember this, that it wasn’t a dream. What’s remarkable is the quality of sensations that are not exactly thoughts, as if they came before words. I’m very small, being held between the knees of someone much larger, my arms perhaps draped over these knees. My feet aren’t free. They’re in a sack of some sort, like a sleep sack.
To my left is a large window, what I later heard called a “picture window.” A shape passes outside, silhouetted by what I now identify as a lamp on the walkway. At that moment, it’s only a frightening shape. Thinking back, I name it—a man with a brimmed hat. He is walking towards our front door. I don’t like it. My body stiffens. Perhaps I cry out. But I’m held and I’m safe and the shape passes away. Nobody comes in.
Pamela Schoenewaldt, historical novels of immigration and the search for self in new worlds: WHEN WE WERE STRANGERS, SWIMMING IN THE MOON, and UNDER THE SAME BLUE SKY (all HarperCollins).
pamelaschoenewaldt.com 
The beginning of a new book? It’s lovely 😍
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It might be a strange book about a time before words. The only other early, early memory was being in my grandmother’s house in Brooklyn that was full of tall, dark things that shouldn’t be touched.
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It would be a strange book if it was a time before words.
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There are occasionally sentences I read that make a distinct impression. Sometimes, it is because of their syntax and diction. At other times, the ideas contained in them carry a sense of a deeply revealed truth. Then, there are the rare ones that contain both, such as “What is remarkable is the quality of sensations that are not exactly thoughts, as if they came before words.”
Fabulous.
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Aw shucks. Thank you.
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