Today is my birthday. Or given the hour, maybe I should say was my birthday. Right now I’m trying to decide whether or not to reveal my age. The whole purpose of Whispers is to reveal things that are on the edge/tip of my tongue, but I spent the entire day playing down my birthday.
Before I was born, doctors said I was supposed to be triplets. My parents had even come up with three names. The story I’ve been told is that I was the only one there. Either the other two souls died on delivery, or the doctors could not differentiate between three heart beats and one heartbeat doing triple time. One day, I’ll get up the courage to investigate births and deaths in New York City on May 8th 1948.