The arrival of memory
There was a sight ( of some small bread made in a style) and a smell ( light but warm and bodied); and there’s a texture, and taste like flour. The kinds of fragments of a memory of a food that you never forget. In my vision: a man. A baker from an old kingdom; to give me tasty morsels, as were served to kings and emperors. And now I have a memory of this kind of food - a memory that is connected to sight and scent, taste and texture. It is a complete memory, and yet I have never experienced all of these things in one place and one time. Who is to say they are not a complete memory nonetheless? To have arrived here together to meet and join in one place as old friends who have been long astray.