Slips of Mind

‘You consider yourself learned and well-read, well I do—so would you mind telling me how you’d felt the moment you were born?’

His wide-eyed face grows featureless and his mind goes utterly blank. There’s little to think, he thinks. ‘I wouldn’t mind telling it if I knew but … Why’d you think up something like that?’, and he pulls a credible face of cheerlessness.

‘I understand.’ … She thinks. ‘How about an hour after you were born?’

There creeps: Silence.

‘No?’ … She thinks hard. ‘A day after?’

Silence stays.

‘I wouldn’t ask you anything I haven’t asked myself and to tell you the truth I couldn’t answer it either, nor could make up a lie about it.’


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