I picked up my old notes again. Memories lost in time and even in space, since the notebook had been hidden behind a pile of books. Perhaps a way to protect myself from memories that weren’t worth keeping.
As I flipped through the pages, some things came back to me, while many felt completely new, as if I hadn’t been the author at all.
Then, on the last page, right in the center, there were a phone number and a name: Pam. Does it make sense to reminisce about old loves? Even as I wondered, I had already placed the call. The phone rang a couple of times. “Hello?”
