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AMOS DECKER WOULD forever remember all three of their violent deaths in the most paralyzing shade of blue.
I have hyperthymesia, which means I never forget anything. I’m not talking about memory techniques where you can teach yourself to remember things better, like the order of a pack of cards using association tricks. No, with me it’s just a turbocharged brain that has somehow unlocked what we all have but never use. There aren’t many hyper-Ts—my shorthand—in the world. But I’m officially one of them.
Results in the real world came from slow, dogged work, compiling facts and building conclusions and deductions based on those facts. And a little luck never hurt either.
He could compartmentalize at an astonishing level. It came from not giving a shit.
Orphan facts, he liked to call them. There was no one to claim ownership because they were lies.
We are so much alike, Amos. So much. Like brothers. Do you have a brother? Of course you don’t. I checked. Sisters, yes, but no brother. So can I be yours? We’re really all the other has now. We need each other.
Who is this?!?
There could be no commiseration among such people despite the seeming commonality of loss, because it was actually each parent’s totally unique hell.
First, it had opened up channels in his mind, like unclogging a drain, which allowed information to flow far more efficiently. Second, it had caused other circuitry in his mind to intersect, providing him the ability to see numbers in color.
the consensus was that he was now officially an acquired savant with hyperthymesia and synesthesia abilities.
