MEMORY

I’ll never forget the time . . .um,  . . .I’ll never forget the time . . .the time that . . .no, sorry, it’s gone. I can’t remember what I was going type. Oh well. I’m sure whatever it was I’ll never forget was very memorable but I’ll be damned if I can recall what it was right now.

Memory really is a funny old thing isn’t it? I mean, half of the time you can’t remember things and the other half of the time you, . . .um, . . .you, . . .no, sorry, I can’t remember what I was going to type about the other half of the time but I bet it’s true whatever it is.

I do remember one thing though. I remember waking up around five a.m. when I was six years of age and looking out my bedroom window. I could see the silhouette of a poplar tree against a streaky porridge beige sky and there was a sound in the air, like a drawn out shrieking. I remember that quite clearly. I wonder what that sound was. I never heard it again. Or maybe I did but I just can’t remember when I did. I doubt it though, if I heard that sound again I would have remembered hearing it again because I never forgot hearing it the first time and . . .oh, hold on, that’s what I was going to type at the start of this post. I was going to type that I’ll never forget the time I woke up around five a.m. when I was six years of age and looked out my bedroom window and saw the silhouette of a poplar tree against a streaky porridge beige sky and heard a sound in the air, like a drawn out shrieking. That’s what I was going type. I remember now. Ha! Well, that’s memory for you.

Memory really is a funny old thing isn’t it? I mean, half of the time you can’t remember things and the other half of the time you, . . .um, . . .you, . . .no, sorry, I can’t remember what I was going to type about the other half of the time but I bet it’s true whatever it is.

FACTORY

I opened a factory once. It didn’t make anything but people invested in it because they speculated that one day it would make something. They thought it was good factory, with its big conveyer belts and large delivery depot and all of that. The investors thought whatever the factory ended up making would be well made so they bought shares.

After a while, the investors noticed that the factory wasn’t making anything and they panicked and started to sell their shares so I sent out a press release saying that the factory was about to start making something and that it would be great. After the word went out, people started investing in the factory again. The press release got the factory over a difficult bump in the road but the factory never made anything. I wasn’t really interested in that side of the business.

I’m sure you saw my factory. It was on the road to your cousin’s house. Do you remember? It was in the big muddy field. Like a giant tombstone. It had a word written on it. Emblazoned across it. But you can’t remember what the word was. Neither can I to be honest. It was probably a word like ‘Paradigm’ or ‘Optimum’ or ‘Ventron’ (whatever that means). Or maybe it was the name of something from Greek or Norse mythology. Or maybe nothing was written on it or maybe the actual word ‘Nothing’ was written on it. Or maybe there was just a symbol on it, like an astrological thing or maybe a big question mark. Who knows?

Anyway, I eventually sold the factory to someone who sold it someone else who burned it down for the insurance money so there is nothing in that big muddy field anymore except for a strange smell, like melted plastic. But you won’t smell it because you won’t be passing that way. You don’t visit your cousin anymore and haven’t for a long long time. Not since your cousin got drunk and made that cruel observation about you that hurt because it was true or at least kind of true. You rang a taxi from the house and left on polite terms but you both knew you’d never see each other again. You didn’t say a word to the driver the whole way home. You just looked out the window. Lost in your thoughts. You passed my factory. It didn’t even register.

We are an industrious species. The human capacity for invention is limitless as is the human imagination. Even where there is nothing we see something. Well, some of us do. Some of us see opportunity where others just see a big muddy field with an empty factory in it with something written on the factory but it’s hard to say for certain what exactly it says and it doesn’t matter anyway because the factory is on fire.