by Lee Hulme
A gaunt young man staggered down the busy street, a small circle of space around him. Looking around wildly, he reached for an arm, only to be shrugged off. He reached again, and the arm shook him violently away.
The young man took a few more steps, shaking his head and muttering.
An elderly lady stepped in front of him, bag of shopping hitting the floor as she put both hands up to stop him running straight into her.
The young man allowed himself to be stopped, and he raised red eyes to meet hers.
“Here now, what’s the matter?” the woman asked.
“Do-do you know me?” the young man asked.
“What? You don’t recognise me when you’re not making me coffee?” the woman asked with a smile.
The man shook his head and frowned, “Do you know my name?”
“Of course I do, it’s…er. Well now, I always greet you with it. Seems to have slipped my mind for the now. Oh dear, I am sorry…” the woman shuffled uncomfortably.
The young man began to cry, “I don’t remember either.”
“What don’t you remember, love?”
“Me,” the man sobbed. “I don’t remember me.” Continue reading