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When he woke up, Albert knew he was going to die. He sat up in bed and
looked at the digital display of the radio alarm clock beside his bed.
The red LED display turned from 02:59 to 03:00. The darkest hour of the
night, he thought to himself. Strange images passed before his eyes, snatches
of something almost familiar, but without detail, as though he had not
seen clearly or had not had time |
to remember properly.
He thought that maybe he was having a lucid dream and tried to direct
it to something more understandable, but the images continued to flash
past. As he continued watching, if you could call it watching when you
had no control over what your eyes were showing you, the images changed
and came into focus, taking on more detail until he recognised what he
was seeing. He realised that he was fully awake, that his life really
was passing before his eyes; that odd, pre-urban myth was true. The strange
images, he now realised, were his earliest memories, the things that his
infant brain had stored away before it knew what was important and what
could be forgotten.|
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