"Heavy medication does seem inviting at times, though. It's really frustrating when you can't remember anything but fragments of your past, like photographs, in random order, not really making much sense. There are times when I wonder why I hate hot chocolate so much, it's like the whole idea of it is something that I'm physically reactive to," she brought up an example of a particular instance at the coffee shop when she tried a hot chocolate as a bit of a change up, and it ended up making her violently ill. "It’s not milk, or chocolate," she continued, "because I don't mind either of those. It’s something else, some memory that I can't bring up, some reason that escapes me that I’ve come to associate a really bad feeling with drinking the actual beverage. Things like that make a more aggressive approach to recall appealing to me." She climbed up onto the park bench, then, and tried balancing on the backrest.

Off

On

"You’re going to fall," I observed. "And maybe it's just that you had the flu or something once and you associate the hot chocolate with being sick," I hypothesized.

"Am I making you angry?" I asked, noticing a change of the tone in her voice.

"Easy to say that, but it's not your memories that are missing," she replied.

"Not at all. I'm glad that I remembered something, and I'm frustrated that I can't remember more, and I'm happy that I'm here with you, talking about it all."