074: memory

Years had passed; yet, no matter the number of faces and voices whose paths would weave in and out of his own, he could never forget any of them. Granted, such a burden of memory did not serve him well during those moments of embarrassment upon the flicker of some lost shame, but friends long since vanished from his life knew that, upon returning, nothing would be any different than when they had last departed.

And yet, there he sat, a letter in his hand written in a familiar script. No face or voice came...but he remembered the name...