Thursday, 26 November 2015

Lost, by Anthony Bloor

It came as a great shock when I learnt that I too had that terrible disease. The latest memories are the first to fade but the earliest, the very earliest memories - they’re the last to vanish. And when I thought about this, I decided this was how it should be. Because the news is so awful these days, and the world has become a scary place. Best not to think about it. Whereas my earliest memories are of happier days, so it’s good that they should stay for as long as… as long as… And my house is full of nice things: photographs and old postcards, which help me to remember the happy times. I can’t wait to get back home, surrounded by the familiar, looking at bric-a-brac, and remembering how they arrived into my world of things. If only… If only I could remember… where I live.

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