Day 5 - Memory Story

Memory Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

The sunlight catches my eye – a flash of blindness as I blink profusely.  Instinctually my eyes squeeze shut too tight and I see stars.  What is going on?  Suddenly the room feels warm.  But it’s winter.  I don’t feel a heater and the sunlight couldn’t be warming the room that much, right?

An image comes to mind and I am nostalgic.

My head hurts like I have a headache.  I don’t think it hurt before.

Where am I?

When am I?

I reach for the pint in front of me and take a swig of my beer.  Or at least I think it’s my beer.  I don’t see anyone sitting with me.  It’s cold and tart with a little bit of froth left.  It’s very hoppy.  I am very happy.  I make myself chuckle at that.  Hoppy is such a pleasant sounding word.  Beer words don’t usually seem happy.  Tart, bitter, flat, skunky.  None of those sound pleasant at all.

Am I drunk?  I don’t feel drunk, but I’m making myself laugh about silly nonsense.  I might be drunk.

Something outside keeps reflecting light inside.  Glimmer, glint, and glare.   Why do light words begin with the letter G?  Why can’t I think straight?  Somewhere there’s a mirror or metal or another piece of glass and the setting sun is creating a nightmare inside me.  Maybe it has snowed.  Maybe there is a twinkle of light coming off the new fallen snow.  Twinkle.  That doesn’t start with a T.  I mean G.  It doesn’t start with a G.  Did I really just have to prove that to myself?  Maybe I am drunk.

I take another sip of the beer and then the headache kicks in hard.

I look away.  I look down.  I rub my temples.  I take a deep breath.  I clear my mind.

The piercing subsides.  A little bit.  Just enough.

I open my eyes and look back around the room.  There seem to be fewer people than before.  Where’s the sun at?  Did it already set?  Did I miss it?  Is that snow falling outside?  Just a minute ago I swear I thought it was summer.

I lost my virginity during the summer.  I was seventeen.  It was hot and sweaty and the beer we drank too much of was incredibly weak by my adult sensibilities.

An image comes to mind and I am nostalgic.

I’ve been here before.  It’s been a long time.  I think.  I spent many an hour here when I matriculated as a university undergrad.  This place used to be an English Pub.  Then it became a German restaurant.  Now it looks like an English Pub again.  Everything that’s old is new again.

It’s been years.  I’m too old for this place now.  I feel out of place in space and time.  I remember when I fit here.

No one looks at me strange.  I’ve fooled their adolescent eyes.

My head hurts like I have a headache.  I don’t think it hurt before.

I don’t know why I’m here tonight.  I don’t remember coming here at all.

Where am I?

When am I?

She used to be here.

We used to be here.

An image comes to mind and I am nostalgic.