The Haze by Helen Sherwin

It was a memory, an almost forgotten memory, that I wanted to share with you.

The problem with sharing memories is that often they are in a state of haze in your mind.  And, on recalling them you have to order them and tie down the story. Creating order out of loose thoughts; pinning down truth.

Healthy you might think, but there is a sense of loss in doing that. What if you haven’t remembered correctly? Once committed it’s near impossible to go back.

Although the haze was just a haze perhaps that was closer to the truth than a strung-together-memory, in which you might of fabricated some detail to make it “work”. So, it sounds good. So it makes sense.

But alas it shall have to be told, and words committed for how else should we save it from being lost? How else should anybody read it? For one cannot read a haze after all.

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