My Memory Was On A Break

Well, doc, I was rollerblading on 28th Dover Street. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary, I always spend my Friday nights rollerblading. You see, it is quite refreshing after a heavy work-week, you should try it doc, you will see. As I was saying, I was rollerblading some blocks away from my apartment, enjoying deep breaths, the occasional bug-dodging, and keeping my focus despite all the loose bikinis. It was a steady pace, slow and mindful. Then, it hit me, just like that, out of nowhere – I had an epiphany doc, an epiphany. I remembered that I ought to replace the breaks on the roller-blades, and I knew I had removed the old breaks the day before. But I could not remember if I fitted them with the new set of breaks. My mind kept fighting me over which memory was correct, was it the one with the brakes still inside the bag on the kitchen table; or, the memory where I screwed the new brakes onto the roller-blades in the evening the very next day. I tried my hardest to remember if such an evening ever occurred; every time my gut told me it never happened the evening would fade away from my mind, flash after flash. But by the time I figured it out I was going down hill. So you see doctor – well actually, I believe you know damn well how that turned out.

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