Select memories

In the dimly lit museum hallway, she reached the front of the coat check line and the young man handling the hangers came to the forefront of her mind the way one sometimes has to stop when walking through a shop and overhears a familiar song on the overhead. His light blue eyes looked at her, equally puzzled, unable to find the words. She furrowed her brow as a catalogue of faces raced through her thoughts, and taking her coat, suddenly he said her name aloud and the memory formed a context. They were in grade school together, eons ago, and he said he remembered she was a good student and always had all the answers. Now his tall figure looked suddenly odd, the body of a little boy stretched in time with the same face. She smiled and felt both flattered and aghast, because she immediately forgot his name again but thought how nice it is to be remembered. If only she had all the answers now as she did then. Time seems to erase fact the way black ink smudged off her wrists in geography.


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