The Memory Police

No, don’t worry. It doesn’t hurt, and you won’t even be particularly sad. One morning you’ll simply wake up and it will be over, before you’ve even realized.

‘Men who start by burning books end by burning other men,’

I would have been about seven or eight years old, dressed in a pink lace skirt my mother had made for me. It was by then much too short, even when I pulled on the lace, and I remember being terribly worried that my cousin, coming up behind me on the stairs, would be able to see my underwear.

Though I’ve tried, I’ve found no way to fill in the voids left by the Memory Police.

My mother was at her most lively when she talked about this small bottle

‘Men who start by burning books end by burning other men,’

“I thought I could hear the sound of my memory burning that night.”

“I remember hearing a saying long ago: ‘Men who start by burning books end by burning other men,’ ” I said.

There, behind your heartbeat, have you stored up all my lost memories?

In the end, however, it was the old woman’s prediction that turned out to be accurate. No matter how long we waited, spring never came, and we lay buried under the snow along with the ashes of the calendars.