Sometimes I think about Laura Damián. Not often. Four or five times a day. Eight or sixteen times if I can’t sleep, which makes sense since there’s room for a lot of memories in a twenty-four-hour day. But usually I only think of her four or five times, and each memory, each memory capsule, is approximately two minutes long, although I can’t say for sure because a little while ago someone stole my watch, and keeping time on one’s own is risky.
