A Meeting Not Remembered

As I strolled through the crowded streets of Coronet, I remembered I did not remember much. What very little I did know was important to me, and filled quite a short list: I am alive. I am a girl. I am sometimes capable of things I do not fully comprehend. And perhaps most importantly of all, I have no knowledge of and little motivation to find out who I really am. People sometimes seem to recognize me, but their faces mean nothing to me. I remember simple, easy things like eating, sleeping, and the other responsibilities of being alive, but almost nothing else. Every morning I wake up, I seem to forget more. I remember that I forget, but I can't possibly recall memories or past experiences. For example, I remember that I have eaten, but I am unsure of what it was, or how I acquired it. I find my purse has a cred-card inside it, and that it has enough to sustain living expenses for at least some time longer.

I remember that sometimes I am more lucid, like right now. I am at least somewhat capable of conversation, but I know that trying is somewhat futile, as I will probably forget who it is I am talking to minutes after starting the conversation. I remember that people find me peculiar because I cannot remember, but I know that I am always happy. Every day is a new experience, a new life without the limitation on waiting for maturity. I suppose I seem intelligent in some regard, in that I can rationalize all this, perhaps every day, maybe even more than once. It is a shame that the process must be repeated and time wasted, but there is a price for this kind of euphoric perspective.

There is a pain in my left foot as I take my next step, and I look down to inspect it. It seems I have lost a shoe and do not remember losing it. The feeling is familiar and doesn't last long in my mind. I simply remove my other shoe and carry on in my barefoot symmetry. There is a cold feeling on both my feet now, just as I've entered a building which seems to be a diner of sorts. More rugged, perhaps. The scent of strong alcohol is in the air. I look down to inspect my feet. I have lost both my shoes. I simply shrug and understand it as reality.

I remember something vague about alcohol. That isn't to say I don't understand it's effects; drunkenness, dizziness, blackouts and nausea, among others of course. But perhaps I have tried to remember something. I laugh to myself quietly at the irony of that feeling. Trying to remember is quite an odd feeling.

Approaching the bar, I ask the man behind it if he serves food here. I felt my stomach growl as he nodded his head, looking somewhat confused.

"We don't get many girls in here. Do you know where you are?"

"Not entirely, actually. I only know I'm hungry and that I don't know what anything tastes like."

The look on his face became even more confused. I simply smiled and shrugged.

"I suppose that's fine then. We don't really have much of a menu, but the wampa burgers aren't that bad. You... do have money, right?"

"Oh, yes. I think so."

I pulled out the cred card and slid it to the man as I took my seat. He nodded and took the card, finally smiling back at me. I spun on the bar stool, taking in the atmosphere. My hands hit a large wooden desk- no, more of a bar. I wondered how I came to be sitting. I checked my purse and saw that my cred card was missing. Obviously I was either waiting to get it back, or it had been stolen. A man walked out of the back room and approached me. I awaited what would likely explain what was going on.

"Your food will be ready in a few miss. Here you are."

He handed me a cred card, which I promptly put in my purse. It would seem I had purchased food, which delighted me greatly.

"Can you do me a favor, sir? Make sure I don't leave without eating. It probably happens to me."

The man gave me a strange look, but simply nodded and shrugged. Perhaps he thought I was drunk. The scent of strong alcohol was on the air, and I wouldn't put it past myself.