on flashbacks-

i often have flashbacks, vivid paralyzing flashbacks. when i was a little girl, my daddy would hook up the camera so that it projected from the tele. i'd watch myself, every move as i was making it. i think this is the reason my memory works the way it does: like a recording, and at any moment the tape will run out.

today my brother's friend walked into the room instantly triggering a memory.

 i had just landed in amsterdam. i grabbed my luggage and hopped on a shuttle to my next flight. in front of me sat a man about my age. it was the black top hat and black guitar case draped over his shoulder that transported me back inside this dutch shuttle.

"you don't have much with you, do you?" the man asked.

"i'm actually on my way to germany."

"wow. germany's a great place. you'll have a great time. i'm a musician, just got back from a gig in chicago. beautiful city!" he said, as the world grew smaller.

 he continued finding more reasons to converse, until we arrived at the gate. a friendly, "have a safe trip! nice to meet you." and we went our separate ways.

so vividly i could see him standing in front of me again. i could see the width of his smile; it was as if i could smell his cologne there in my dinning room, three-thousand plus miles away from that dutch airport. an instant interaction seemingly minuscule, resembling that of many, replayed in my mind as if life-altering. but it wasn't. actually, it was quite unsexy. i cannot say i was made any better or worse because of it.

perhaps any significance of that memory exists in me being in a foreign land alone. and this very thought makes me wonder: in how many minds am i a recording unsexily replayed, over and over again?

just that very thought...