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One of those many dates which no longer say anything to me. Where I went that day, what I did--I don't know. If a crime was committed nearby --I'd have no alibi. The sun shone and set without my noticing. The earth rotated without mention in my notebook. It would be easier for me to think that I died for a while than to admit that I remember nothing, although I was alive the whole time. After all I was not a ghost, I breathed and ate, took steps which were audible, and left fingerprints on the doorknobs. |
I was reflected in the mirror. I wore something of a certain color. I'm sure several people saw me. Perhaps on that day I found something I had lost earlier, or lost something which was later found. Feelings and impressions filled me. Now all that is like dots inside parentheses. Where I hid, where I hung out -- it's not a bad trick to vanish from my own sight. I'll jog my memory -- maybe something in its recesses which has been dormant for years will awaken with a start. No. I am most clearly demanding too much, though but a second of time. |