calliope, calliope 2015
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memories

by dee pei hui, photo credits.

The Grandor was working on a disc, something like a CD. He left the room for a while to retrieve something from his office.

“Oh my goodness, the Grandor has left the door open for a change!” The two girls entered the room.
“Oh, he’s fixing her memories!”
“Ugh. I’m not helping her anymore,” one of them huffed.

“Yeah I know, me neither, she’s incorrigible!”

They looked at each other, and then shattered the already broken disc pieces into a million tinier pieces, crushing and stamping it with their feet as forcefully as they could.

They dumped most of the pieces into the bin, leaving the rest scattered all around, and left the room hurriedly.

But before they got out of the office building, the Grandor returned. He found the pieces and summoned the girls over.

“Did you two do this?” he asked sternly.

The two girls were guilty, but not ashamed. They began telling the Grandor why they had done that to her memories.

The Grandor looked at them and said quietly, “Let me tell you something about that night.”

“That night was a cold and chilly one,” he started as he began pacing the room slowly. “Adrianne’s mother’s water bag had burst and she was rushing her mother over to the hospital to deliver her step- brother. She was going fast, way too fast on a slippery road covered in ice sheets, and when she turned the corner the car skidded and crashed into a tree.” He looked up at the two interns, his eyes unsmiling and somber. “Her mother and the baby died on the spot. Adrianne survived, but only just.”

“And how do you know she didn’t crash the car on purpose?” Victoria challenged, refusing to believe it all. “To get rid of the baby whose father Adrianne loathed?”

“Because,” The Grandor glared at her fiercely. “I’ve seen her memories, exactly the way Adrianne perceived it.”

Victoria looked less sure of herself now.

“Have you, my dear, forgotten that I could not only view her memories, but even replay them over and over again for analysis, given the newly developed technology?” The Grandor showed no mercy in his words.

“Oh no, so she was innocent…” Panic set in.

“Can you still fix her memories, Grandor? Can you?” Victoria asked.

“No,” the Grandor told them solemnly. “It is highly unlikely that I will be able to, the damage is far too great for me to repair now.”

“Then what are we going to do?” they cried. Victoria looked ready to stab herself.

“I will have to reconstruct her memories by combining new ones together with some of the bigger pieces of her remaining memory.” And the Grandor got back to work while the two continued scouring for all the pieces all over the place.

“Perhaps I should reconsider your internship here. I can’t have you flouting all the rules and destroying memorial discs,” the Grandor said coldly, not looking up.

“How will you reassemble her memories, Grandor?” “Using her mother’s,” he replied.

 

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