"This is a fruit of every season which carries the scent of its travels..." My grandfather often repeated this little phrase to me when he was talking about his clouds. He has the best collection of ... [+]
Originally published in Flash Fiction Magazine – July 2015
I woke up from an untroubled sleep and remembered nothing.***Some days I envy Gregor Samsa. He woke up from a troubled sleep and found himself transformed into a giant insect; but at least Kafka let him keep his human memories. My metamorphosis was the other way round. Physically, I remained untouched; but my mind went from a full slate to a blank slate, in one ordinary night.***Try to imagine it. You wake up. The morning light is streaming through the open windows. A touch of coolness lingers in the air. Your eyes move around, taking in the bedside table, the floral-patterned curtains, the bo