Doolally

What happens when you have to face it.

A life without a past. A life with nothing

but a chirping now, a squeaking present.

He knows, there must be a former life.

Because he notices them on the shelves:

old photo books, yellowed newspapers.

The doctors examine him and start to ask

questions about yesterday. But he can't

understand them. Past? Previous? Prior?

The only thing he realizes. Here, now, this.

It's a serious disease the experts murmur.

No medicine has been found to cure his

anomaly. What remains. He has to learn

it from scratch. The language, his belief in

a deity, the map of the city, the name of

all his children. Perhaps he has a disease.

Maybe he does not fit into our changing

world, into our transient universe. On

the other hand. Every morning when he is in

the kitchen, he discovers how he can make

with some flour, a bit of yeast, a pinch of

salt: a delightful country bread. Full of joy

he writes to his mother on a postcard:

'Now I know for sure, life is miraculous.'