It is frightening how much I have not forgotten. How much should be lost. It defies all logic that I still retain such vivid detail. It is a curse, and a blessing, to have such a memory. A leaf blows a certain way and blam! there I am again. Walking my dog down the street years ago. Such an indescript day and time. Yet the accuracy with witch (ha) I can recall those details is astounding. And then there are… other things.
I open my eyes, and I am standing, once again, in the beach house. I gaze out of the wall of windows at the ocean, watching the massive hurricane beat down upon the shore. I wait for the sharks to come. And they will come. They always do.
They say Posey’s is haunted. Quite haunted. So haunted that it’s gotten more than a little bit of attention. Who haunts this place of mourning? They say it is the children.
I don my dumb swedish girl outfit and sing the very cool new American song, “I wan nafuh que in Thea’s”
Lysosomes are truly quite extraordinary, don’t you think?