Another Sleepless Night

Another sleepless night.

Memories are something very interesting. They settle themselves down at the bottom of your mind, and you are hardly aware of their existence. Until some trivial events, or a specific scene, trigger them, stirring them up from the very bottom of your mind.

The nonchalant sight cast at the finger puppet given to me by a friend when she was in London reminded me of her immediately. Just as much every time I rode on the bus passing through Caledonian Road, I remembered in one of those houses along the road the dinners with other friends, chats over endless cups of coffee or tea.

Now they have all left, back home, or further afield. Do they ever miss me the way I miss them?

Tonight will be another sleepless night. I know it only too well.

TIME CHANGES MEMORY REMAINS