A piece of dry ice in a rain puddle behind a store. The water bubbling from it. It was cold, maybe in the 40s, overcast, a gray day. I was 4.
Sitting on the floor in my bedroom. Green linoleum. I stick a knife (tableware, dull) into the socket in front of me. The feeling is odd but not painful. A vibration; intense, warm. I think I was 4.
Petting a goat behind a small lunch counter/deli down the street from my father's bike shop. It was fall, I think I was 5. It was sunny. I have no idea why they had a goat.
Large goldfish frozen in a fishpond in front of a house. Winter, of course, maybe in January. I was perhaps 6.
Drops of blood spattering up the wall and blinds on the window in the kitchen when I shook my hand after slicing my finger. I think I was 6. It was spring, cool but sunny outside. I was home alone after school.
Getting kicked out of the movie theater for pelting the screen with pea shooters. There were two us, I think it was the youngest of the Joyce kids. I was 7.
Coming out of the drugstore on Main St. after spending a long time reading the comics on the rack and finding myself completely unfamiliar with my surroundings. Disoriented. I was 8. It was sunny but it felt cloudy, the sky seemed an odd color, I was unsure which way to turn to go home. I later equated it to a Twilight Zone experience. It was the first time it happened, it's happened many times since. Almost always after concentrating on something close at hand for an extended period time.
The above are some memories that pop up in my mind, unbidden. In fact, while I was writing this, I tried to conjure up more (because there are many) but I couldn't. These memories are involuntary. Like a muscle twitch, a little tic in the eyebrow. But very real. More than just a picture in my mind, the sense of being there is very strong.
A Night Unremembered
2 years ago