Everyday memory softens with time and fades. Trauma memory is ever and always. It is the red, raised hand on your face even before the slap has registered. It is the sun's afterimage, burned in. And it burns on and on.
Memory like this can, indeed, be blinding.
In "You Again," published by Flockthis April, meet Elizabeth. Enter her memory. Exit through a door beneath an underpass where a homeless woman reads her fortune. Take Liz's offer at the bar for a drink. Walk back to her studio. Get drunk with her. Walk the road with her, where all ways lead back to the crux of a hurt that seems to never fade.
Every possible thanks to L.L. Madrid, my writing partner and colleague.
And huge thanks to the adroit, respectful, eager, and unflagging Flock editors — April Gray Wilder and Elise Burke.
For the next 8 days, read Issue 18 for free. Find "You Again" on page 99. Read it now.