its too bad he wriote I cant remember things about me that others do.
he wrote it in paleblue chalk
on a blackboard
he dreamedwhat
he could remember was he was in a nondescript
room and everyone in iteveryone were strangers to him – he rarely dreamed of people
he knew – communicated by printing on a small blackboard held in their laps with
white chalk
he had no idea why he was printing in paleblue
and when he wrote its too bad I
cant remember things about me that others do PERIOD the chalk when he struck it crumbled in his hands it sifted like particles of sand through his
fingers
he couldnt speak in the room
he had to leave his
voice outside it
it was odd
to leave something that he didnt think could be left
even as he jabbed the blackboardmade
the PERIOD
at his sentences end he opened his mouth
to exclaim NO only air passed it passed like NO
nothing
was heard
though the
room heard the stabthe PERIODlooked
up and recognising that his chalk was crumbling coveted their chalk handled it more gingerly
and disregarded him from the groupno one offered to break a piece off their
chalk
he
would have
what did that say about them
maybe thats
why they were strangers
he left the roomleaving it he recognised
there were no windows
he hadnt earlier because they were printingcommunicating
he took his blackboard with him
he wasnt sure that anyone inside
the room even read its too bad I cant remember thing about me that others do.
likely he hadnt written it for
them
for himself
he picked up his voicetried it
out he didnt like the sound of his voice
so he knew it was his
he woke promptly so not to forget
0855, Reggae Friday, 17 7.
20
