Misty, watercolor memories and funky filing
Nia was like a retriever with a slobber-covered ball between her incisors. She refused to drop it. After yesterday’s letter, she wanted to know where Typist was pulling the stray lyric — My Lord, What A Mornin’ — from — she knew just where to look.
grade school class pictures
baby shoes (never worn?)
three-ring binders with newspaper clippings
a knife that cut a wedding cake
and a whole-lotta other miscellaneous stuff
A battered two-pocket folder full of sheet music from The Wisconsin Youth Chorale’s 1983 European Concert Tour.
Turns out Typist’s memory was mixing its notes… there was a song titled My Lord, What A Mornin’ and a song from Porgy and Bess, two separate scores merged into one.
Funny… What we decide to hold onto?
Interesting… How our memories work?
Fascinating… When we feel certain, but we’ve mixed our notes?
Our friend Mike shaved his head!