What Is Memory?

The houses look like they're from another era, although the image was made today. I'm intrigued with bits and pieces, scraps of things, sifting through the messy file drawer of memory. Scraping away layers, picking at something til something else is revealed. Stuff gets under your fingernails, in your nostrils. There is a musty scent in the hollow of the throat. 

And it rains and rains. Mr S was brave this morning, walking into a fierce wind on the cliffs. I turned around almost immediately and sat in the car til he got back. No back spasms today, but I have been very careful. Lots of time in the kitchen: beef stew for later in the week, tonight's pasta, chocolate chip cookies for right now. Almost time for Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries. 

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