• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 09
Image by

Memories Replayed

You pick up the bud
The head has collected dust
You look for the solution

Time steps back
You close your eyes
You look forward?

Where is the bottle
Containing the solution?
You look behind

You stretch your hand
You touch your father
He was standing nearby

He was looking out
The window, at the
Garden, where jasmine bloomed

You could hear the birds chip
You could sense the cold
Afternoon breeze that
Was blowing that day.

You turn towards
The bottle...

Father died four years ago
The afternoon breeze
Years before


Memories Replayed

There's no window now...
The jasmine no longer
Blooms. The garden's gone...

You pick up the solution.
You have to clean the head
To make the tape glide.

You listened to your
favourite Kenny Rogers
Are you sure?

Time covered the gap
You stand with the
Head-cleaner in hand.

Someone's inside your head!
Time? Music? Kenny Rogers?
Evening breeze? Smell of the Jasmine?
Chirping birds?

Is your mother calling?
Who is there inside
Your head?

A throbbing pain
That outlasted technology.

You do not need
Any head-cleaner now.