Don’t Forget To Remember

27 Jul

I wrote a book of long short stories yesterday, in a different house, in a different town. Each story was at least fifty pages, some longer, and together the stories made up the length of a novel. I wrote the book all in one day. I couldn’t wait to show you.

Now I can’t find the book, as though it never happened. I looked under the bed, through the cat litter box, in all the drawers. I looked in the mirror, I looked at my feet, I felt around my stomach, colon, bladder with my fingers. I know it exists somewhere. I just can’t remember.

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