There was the person she presented at table and the person she thrashed out in her room. There was his opinion to his seniors and his opinion to juniors. She was one set of words to him, the slightly opposite to others. He was solid, he was fickle. She was one story of her past to them, another to us. Was she oscillating or trying it on? Was he oscillating or keeping his options open? Decades later the contradictions glare, the destinations seem inevitable. She was bubbly as April, decisive as October. He was sleeping-in like Saturday, waking-up like Monday.