Memory is a tricky thing - mostly static, but with a little elastic around the edges. It can stretch and bend and change shape and texture over the years.
My father is part of my earliest memory. He left when I was five and didn’t reappear until my mid-twenties.
As a child, alone but never lonely, I formed at the bas
Through silent dreams the heart taps on wood, beating like a metronome. Nowadays, the pace is about 80 beats per minute. I don't know if this is faster than average, but it bothers me not.
It was the very first day at school in my life. I was around 3 . It was so perfect. I love to paint, to play , to sing happy songs. All of a sudden I had friends, who wanted to be my friend.
I don't recall what exactly was my earliest memory, but what I consider to be my earliest memory was a trip that I took when I was about three years old, perhaps even youn
We were in a 1936 Dodge, four door sedan.
I have distinct memories of lying in a crib...or a basinette and having people staring down at me. I found it slightly disconcerting.
I don't know why I'm taking so much time to describe a piece of cement.
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