It was upsetting to see Great Aunt Amy preparing for the funeral of Ted – her husband of 50 years. We took it in turns to make sure she had company, but it was difficult not to interfere when her behaviour seemed quite bizarre at times.
‘When I called round, Amy had her photos all over the place. Understandable that she wanted to be with her memories but they looked so disorganised. I took her an album on the next visit, but she just put it to one side. ’
Continue reading
‘Don’t you remember?’ her daughter asked in an exasperated fashion. ‘That trip in June when we went to the beach and made friends with those people building a fire?’
Grace’s recall was not the same since the bleed but as this memory was so important to Dahlia she decided it was worth delving into that scary, cavernous place they called the hippocampus. She rarely visited it these days due to the destruction that lived there.
Continue reading
A local radio station, a golden oldie slot, and they were playing his song in the empty pub. He sipped his lunchtime lager, waiting for the kick that would numb his sense of who he was. He wiped the froth of beer from his mouth and wished he could wipe away the froth of memory the tune stirred up. His reflection in the glass behind the bar showed a puffy, beery face, thinning brown hair, and eyes as lifeless as those of a corpse.
Continue reading