It’s one of those forgetful stories

It’s not clear when the forgetting occurred. I know I remembered before I fell asleep. Remembering lost out as I slipped into dreams.

When I awoke, I remembered no more. While I was in blissful ignorance, the thing that needed so much to be remembered did not exist. It waited in limbo—hoping to break out.

The forgotten found its voice and jolted me back. Once I remembered, I wrote it down.