December 10, 2015

“We forgot where we were. It was more than that. We forgot who we were. We forgot what the house was. We opened our eyes and everything was strange. Although this happened enough times for us to feel that we should be used to lapses in identity, we always felt frightened. How could we grow used to the sensation that we were unrooted? During such confused episodes, we found that the rooms we were in were too large or too wide or too bright or too small or too loud or too quiet or too fetid or too sweltering or too cold. We looked at the rooms that we were assured were ours but they were not our rooms at all. We knew our rooms and these rooms were not them. We sat in our beds clutching at blankets which were too wet or too dry or too itchy or too thin and we breathed but found that breathing did not come easily. And so again, we were pained. If we looked to the sides of our beds and saw someone tucked into the covers, we became overcome with the strongest sense of déjà vu. We thought we knew the people beside us but we did not remember how we knew them.”


My story “Valet de Chambre” was published in and/or’s volume #5 If I remember correctly, the story was written at the end of 2012.


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