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distinct whiff of a mysterious fragrance I smelled once at somebody else’s house a very long time
ago. For a moment, I get a strange,
warm feeling, as if this moment has ha...
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
People tried to remember it. They tried to pass on the knowledge to future generations, using methods that would last longer than letters. The comet as a dragon. The comet as braided cords. The fracturing comet as the gestures of a dance.
Where do human memories live? Are they in the synaptic circuitry of the brain? Do retinas and fingertips hold memories, too? Or is there an invisible, amorphous, mistlike, spiritual collective somewhere, and that’s where the memories reside? Something we’d call the heart or the mind or the soul. Is it something you can take out and stick back in, like a memory card with an OS on it?
“…I was going to tell you…,” I mutter quietly to the line. “No matter where in the world you are, I’ll find you again. I swear.”
Fine, I think defiantly. Even if the world is cruel, even if all I have is loneliness, I’ll still live with everything I’ve got. Even if this emotion is all I have, I’ll keep struggling. Even if we’re separated, even if we never meet again, I’ll fight. As if I’d ever resign myself to this! The powerful, fleeting resolution feels as though I’m picking a fight with the gods.
Very soon, I’ll forget even the fact that I’ve forgotten something.
I’m in love. We’re in love. That means we’ll meet again. I’m sure of it. And so I’ll live. I’ll survive this. No matter what happens, even if the stars fall, I will
Why do the unremarkable sights of a town that no longer exists make my heart hurt this much?
I wanted to stay with her, just a little longer. I want to be with him, just a little more.
The spring air carries with it all sorts of apprehension and anticipation, and I draw a deep breath.
