It has been two weeks since…since when what? A sliver of memory felt like it was missing… stolen! [an inner voice shrieked]. But… how? By whom, and why? What would even make him contemplate such a thing? He was in the middle of a long overdue vacation and the last thing he wanted or even needed to feel was that there was some incomplete work. What was he overlooking? [Rather, under looking because he felt annoyed at overanalyzing this, this whim in the first place]. He sighed. He needed a break from his brain and if someone indeed "stole" something from his mind, why wasn't it from the analytical department? …No… no, he knew better than that ~ he really favored that aspect of himself. So why would it only now trouble him? He didn’t know and didn't want to entertain that thought further. As he reclined on the sofa at the hotel suite, trying to dispel the feeling of disquiet, he languorously stretched and turned on the TV. It was simply an ad for some name brand clothes or other [he doesn't know what 'or other' means. Neither does the author]. When the ad finished, another followed about some big name restaurant ~ or other [because repeating the same joke twice is very effectively humorous…]. Being perfectly honest, the steak did look rather delectable. Reflecting on how odd that phrase ['being perfectly honest' and its other variants like 'to be honest'] is for implying we lie to each other more readily and easily. So when we do tell the truth we must warn the listener with a qualifying ~ 'To tell the truth'. Why yes, culture is detrimental and we are such willing and/or mindless participants. A lovely distraction, this thought but 'I have an excellent memory… so… let's start from one day before two weeks ago:
'On Sunday I took my suits to the dry cleaners ~ the receipt I have will also verify this. That was about 1:30pm... Before that, I overslept and so I ate brunch… I had made scrambled eggs, fried ham, two toasts, instant oatmeal, two sausages and hot tea; not the best [except for the scrambled eggs and ham, the other foods were popped into the microwave because –convenience -not how he grew up with warm well cooked meals], but digestible… Anyway, I went grocery shopping ~ the receipt for that will put the purchasing time at 2:54. My cashier's name was Caia, I can't forget a name like that. And I drove home (it took around 20 minutes since I caught all the red lights and the tail end of an accident). After arriving home [3:14], unloading the groceries [3:21], making an early dinner and eating [4:30]. I prepared my clothes for work, I surfed the web, then went to bed. I didn’t immediately sleep, instead turned on the TV. It must have been 8PM because some mystery show was just beginning. I left the channel on for background noise and had begun dozing off.'
'So… the next day, Monday, [fast forward to arriving at work] I had greeted the receptionist who was there early as usual. I had asked her about my cases for that day. She had told me that none of them will cancel; there was nothing changed or unusual about the schedule. So… who was I seeing that day? A total of… three… but that wasn't quite right. There was a fourth one, but that's where my memory simply shuts down…'
He could quite clearly and easily recollect the day and three clients but not that fourth… who was it? When he reflected on the events before the fourth case there was little difficulty. He surmised that that fourth one MUST have been the last one he saw. He could vaguely remember how he felt [on edge] during that event and a bit afterwards, but didn't know about what or even why. He could clearly summon up the events of Tuesday and onwards… so what is he (')purposefully forgetting(')? The more he tried to remember the blacker the scene became (if that's even possible?!) He tried to stop forcing himself to remember but he just couldn't seem to stop. When he goes back to work, he will either ask the receptionist for the schedule that Monday or look at all the profiles to see if that will help. He really didn't want to ask the receptionist [although it wasn't a strange request, really] because he didn't want to make something out of nothing. If no one else knew about his ridiculous feelings of misgivings, he could simply save himself any iota of embarrassment. Even though he had a simple and reasonable plan, how could he enjoy the rest of his vacation when he couldn't wait to return to work? A long and well deserved vacation past overdue… He sighs tiredly. The commercials were still playing… although perhaps he's been sitting in contemplative wonder for so long that it cycled to commercials again. Whatever the case, this ad was simply a smear campaign against some politician he knew and cared nothing about. He would rather see more useful and informative campaign ads, but that's simply his opinion. Perhaps he should have planned a more exciting vacation –or at least a vacation that was balanced with excitement and rest –because he regretted having nothing to do to keep his mind off of work. Not off of work, but precisely off of the unattainable memory of his client. He believed that the key to discovering the truth was to find this individual. But not in the spectacular and impossible ways that are relentlessly and as insipidly shown in movies and dramas. He wasn't out to save the world or his city –simply to find out what it was that made him feel uneasy…it wasn't quite strong enough to describe how he felt, but he wasn't afraid either; and nervous was too lightweight for his taste. He completely ruled out anxious because it had more the context of impatience to him.
Another ad about food. That's it, he'll go out and venture a little. For food, that is. It would possibly help… fuel his mind for more contemplation. As though he needed the energy for that! But… his primal stomach doth speak most stridently at this time thus winning any kind of consideration he had of any other options or plans. It didn't really matter what he chose to eat or where he ended up –he was sure [hoping] that driving around would clear his mind a bit. But… if he wasn't paying attention, it may actually end up ending his life instead… so he changed his clothes, grabbed his car keys, put on his shoes and left the suite.