People constantly ask me why I have a wing for an arm, so I am obliged to tell them the story of how my brothers and I were turned into swans, and how our sister saved us by knitting seven sweaters. My brothers have gone on with their lives, but I am the one who must explain what happened, over and over again.
You see, my sister did not quite finish her task. My sweater only had one sleeve. Therefore I still have a wing. Therefore I still remember.