And for the first time in this project all three minds recall the same memory, with equal vividness -- across a 36-year gulf. So what is worthy of this extraordinary synchronicity?
A brief episode of panic and disgust involving mosquitos.
Admittedly, you don't — every day, anyway — see (or at least I don't) mosquitos with the wingspan of a cigar box, sporting proboscides the girth of lawn darts. But still.
Kinda funny, memory. As Proust used to say.
2 comments:
The mosquitos...say it's not true that mosquitos that large really exist!
Could be worse I guess...house centipedes could fly...
OK, I was exaggerating a little bit.
Eww -- flying centipedes! Yeah, they're plenty hideous enough without wings!
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