The Man Who Cast His Memories To The Stars
He was an older guy, overweight, who walked slowly with a cane. Most clear nights he could be found sitting on a park bench after sunset, slumping over the back of the bench and tilting his head backwards to look at the darkening sky. Curiosity got the better of me one evening, so I walked up to him and asked him what he was looking for up there in the emptiness. He smiled back at me, and replied, "I'm not looking for anything, young man." My quizzical look prompted him to add, "I'm casting my memories to the stars." Evidently he believed that he could "preserve" the pleasant memories of his life by mentally sending them out into space. I didn't ask him how he thought such a thing could possibly work, but instead asked him if he were preserving all his memories, or just the pleasant ones. He scoffed at such a stupid question. "Of course not! Sad, unhappy, painful memories: they are all cast into the pit of oblivion, where they belo