Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Word: Forgettery

forgettery

[fer-get-uh-ree]
noun
1. a faculty or facility for forgetting; faulty memory: a witness with a very convenient forgettery
*********************************

                Charlie yawned one last time while he poured milk into a bowl filled with weirdly yellow flakes and placed a spoon into the mix.  He brought it to the table and dug in.  The food was nearly tasteless, but he had been assured it was good for him.  If it was not for that, he would much rather have been eating cereal with actual flavor in it.  He mused over the merits of adding some kind of berry to the flavorless variety, but that meant he would need to buy the fruit.  He would have just added a spoonful or two of sugar, but that would be counter-productive, considering the reasons for eating the bland breakfast in the first place.
                “Good morning.” Said a far too chipper voice behind him. 
                Charlie glanced over his shoulder at his girlfriend, Nichole.  He marveled at her ability to wake up and not be a zombie.  He had only managed to put cereal to bowl after downing a large cup of coffee, the evidence of which lay in the kitchen sink.  The only reason he did not require two was because the type of coffee he drank he enough caffeine in each cup to wake an elephant.
                Nichole went to fix her own breakfast, sans resurrection strength coffee.  Charlie watched her begin her morning routine and sighed.     
                “Morning.” He replied.  “Hey, babe, are you maybe forgetting something?”
                She paused, cereal box poised over bowl.  She considered his words.  She looked at him with a worried expression.
                “I…I don’t know.  Am I?”
                Charlie pointed.  Nichole followed his finger and her eyes opened wide.  She made a mad dash to the bedroom to put on her pants.  She came out a few minutes later fully dressed and beat red.
                “Thanks.” She said.
                “No problem.  Of course, I personally don’t mind the view, but pants are generally a good idea for everyday life.”
                “Don’t make fun.  You know I can’t help forgetting things.” She said through adorably pouted lips.
                “I know, and I’m sorry.  You know I mean it in the best way possible.”
                Nichole muttered a half hearted acknowledgement of his words and sat at the table.  She looked in front of her seat at the distinct lack of breakfast.  She turned her gaze to Charlie, who pointed at the still waiting bowl on the counter.  She got up and started preparing her breakfast.
                “Hey, you’re getting better.” Charlie said.  “Yesterday you forgot what cereal was.”
                “Don’t make fun of me.” Nichole said bitterly.  “It doesn’t block all my memories you know.  I can remember some things.”
                Charlie was not sure if he should mention that he was being serious.  He opted against it.  As it was, the small piece of something that had embedded itself in Nichole’s brain did seem to be having a reduced effect on her memory.  He just hoped she might one day have her old memory back.  He dreaded a repeat of the three days when she had forgotten who he was.  Now it seemed she only forgot small, day-to-day things, instead of the big stuff she used to forget.  Just the fact that he could hold a conversation of reasonable length with her now was reassuring.
                “My bad.” He said.
                “That’s right, you are.” She said proudly as she returned to the table, completed bowl of cereal in hand.  “Am I really getting better though?  Be honest.” She asked a few seconds later.
                “Yeah, you are.  A little bit every day.”
  ************************
You know, everyone thinks that a perfect memory would be great, but it's probably not all it's cracked up to be.  Think about it.  You wouldn't just remember all the good stuff, you'd remember all the bad stuff too.  Every time you trip and fall, every time you screw something up.  Everything.  Yeah, it's probably a good thing we all forget stuff.

No comments:

Post a Comment