Once upon a time...
There was a man who used to be a boy. And, as a boy, he discovered he could remember one event, one moment in time from the previous day. Not just a memory. He could sense everything about the moment; what he had seen, smelled, heard, felt and tasted as if it were happening again.
The boy thought this quite useful as he would impress his family and friends by recalling detail from a previous day that no ordinary person should be able to do. Everyone thought him special but he did not abuse his gift. He gained nothing from it except some handy tricks to help him. One favourite trick was to look at the open pages of a book and later ‘read’ them, at his leisure.
As a man, he has lost much of the control of this ‘gift’ that he once had as a child. He can still recall the memory from the previous day. The clarity with which it is remembered is still as clear as if he were living the event. Every detail brought back to life, again.
The man no longer calls it a gift.
He remembers the event of yesterday.
Not one event or one moment but the event, the moment. He no longer has this control. In this he has no choice. He has never had a choice. And, if there was ever a choice about this event, it was not his choice to make.
He relives the event from yesterday.
The event of yesterday is himself living the event from the previous day. Which in turn is himself living the event from the previous day. And so it stretches back through the days and years. Like standing between two mirrors.
He can see every little detail. He can smell and hear just as he could the first time. Every touch hurts as much. And the only taste is the taste of fear.
Time does not heal. It does not dilute the feelings nor numb the senses. But, just like standing between two mirrors, it intensifies them. Look closely and you will see that the images don’t get smaller or less detailed; they just get further away.
Glen Hickman "dude! NFS" lost
- 16 years, 3 months, 18 days ago
