Disjointed?
Memory isn’t perfect
We all have Bullets within the soul: memories without any link to anything else, they fire off at random for no reason.
There was a walk by a car park and saw some dumped rubbish with a trolley tipped sideways on top of it, and I seriously thought it was a dead body, called the police and they checked, and laughed.
When was this? Where had I been? Where was it?
Then there was the time I was driving a mini metro and got hit in the fog, and the kebab shop owners came out with knife sharpeners (and knives) to “check on my welfare”
What year was that? Where was I going?
There was the time when a Labrador wouldn’t leave me alone on a park roundabout and humped and humped and scratched me up a lot.
How old was I? I was young, that I know.
Then there was the time when I woke in a hotel room, with the guy who was sharing the room having pizza all over him. Did I do that or did he fall asleep and spill it.
What was the hotel called? What year was it? I think his name was Darren?
There was a Rabbit in Graham’s garden. It used to come when it was called.
What was it called? What was the house number, and road Graham lived on?
Have fun with YOUR memories.
Share them in the comments.
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