I can't work out whether this memory is real or not. It feels real enough, but I can't see how at such a young age, I'd manage to make sense of the world around me. I'm assured that these things did happen as my family drove from Scotland to visit relatives in Zurich in a small Opel car (the symbol seen around the final sentence). Maybe my memories are a mix of the story told to me of the journey in later life, combined with sensory memories of the sights and smells of the journey.
No comments:
Post a Comment