The Last Conversation (Forward Collection, #5)

by Paul Tremblay

“Soon. You keep saying ‘soon.’ I don’t think you and I share that word’s meaning.”

The disjointed way in which the images appear in your head feels natural, authentic. While you can’t know if these images are actual memories or embellishments, or a little of both, it doesn’t matter. They are yours. They belong to you and they branch away into an infinite network of new ones. These memories are proof of you, and someday soon you won’t need or rely on Anne to define you.

“I Am a Scientist” by the Dandy Warhols,

You are aware that everyone experiences some form of auditory dissociation upon hearing their own voice, the feeling of Do I really sound like that? You understand the tone and pitch of the voice you hear when you speak are determined by the mix of air conduction and sounds traveling directly to your cochlea via the tissues in your own head. But should your recorded voice sound so different as to be unrecognizable? Shouldn’t there be an underlying cadence or rhythm, one that identifies you as the speaker?

Maybe your memories are creating themselves; like the solar array and wind turbines, your memories are becoming self-sufficient.