The Memory Police

by Yōko Ogawa

People—and I’m no exception—seem capable of forgetting almost anything,

When they were gone, a calm fell as though the air itself were breathing with infinite care.

The writing is so good

No matter how careful we are, we all leave behind little bits of ourselves as we go about our lives.

The story seemed simple and pleasant enough, but I had a feeling it might take a frightening turn.

I fear this is foreshadow

overgrown with sharp reeds, and walking to it meant risking scratches on your legs. I went with an older cousin who licked my cuts one by one.

???

No matter how much I tried to sleep, worries seemed to form like so many bubbles, but unlike bubbles they floated about forever in my head, refusing to pop.

“It’s true, I know, that there are more gaps in the island than there used to be. When I was a child, the whole place seemed…how can I put this?…a lot fuller, a lot more real. But as things got thinner, more full of holes, our hearts got thinner, too, diluted somehow. I suppose that kept things in balance. And even when that balance begins to collapse, something remains. Which is why you shouldn’t worry.”

I know you must be worried about your wife, but those of us who stay behind will find a way to help her. I’ll certainly look after her. Your job is to survive, so that one day you’ll be reunited with her and your baby. And besides, if you’re arrested, what will become of the novel I’m writing?”

That's a crazy thing to tell someone who could get arrested, bruh your novel???

A heart has no shape, no limits. That’s why you can put almost any kind of thing in it, why it can hold so much. It’s much like your memory, in that sense.”

I found a bottle of sleeping pills in a drawer in my father’s desk. I had seen him take a pill every night before he went to bed. I don’t remember how many I took that day. I certainly intended to take as many as possible, but it was probably just four or five. But soon I started to feel sleepy, and I let myself drift off, satisfied that I’d taken enough to ensure that I would be going to the land of sleep and would never return.”

Bruh

“You’ll forget you ever had a voice,” he continued. “You may find it annoying at first, until you get used to it. You’ll move your lips as you just did, go looking for a typewriter, a notepad. But soon enough you’ll see how pointless it is. You have no need to talk, no need to utter a single word. There’s nothing to worry about, nothing to fear. Then, at last, you’ll be all mine.”

Bruhhhhhhh???????

“I understand,” I said. “It’s not the box’s fault that it disappeared. But what can we do? It’s disturbing to see things that have disappeared, like tossing something hard and thorny into a peaceful pond. It sets up ripples, stirs up a whirlpool below, throws up mud from the bottom. So we have no choice, really, but to burn them or bury them or send them floating down the river, anything to push them as far away as possible.”

“I remember hearing a saying long ago: ‘Men who start by burning books end by burning other men,’

Tea

“No, not at all,” he said, shaking his head vigorously. “I couldn’t be happier living with you. If it wasn’t for your kindness, I would be wandering the streets. Why would I ever want to go back to the way it was before? Besides, the boat was worn out. Even without the earthquake, it would have sunk sooner or later. That’s the way with the things that have disappeared.”

I dont understand characters who act like this. This mans boat (his house) sunk and now he lives with the MC and he said he wouldnt want to go back to the way things were. Do people like this really exist? Im doubtful

It was then I finally realized what had disappeared: my left leg.

...my guy???

“It’s peaceful with just a voice,” I said. “With just a voice, I think I’ll be able to accept my final moment calmly and quietly, without suffering or sadness.”

This is so sad dude