New Memories
Where do last year’s memories go when the new year starts?
“If I’d known you were going to be weird, I’d have gone to the party with Jimmy Howe from engineering.” Emma frowned. She slid her fingers through her black hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re a nice guy, Ben, but you’re a little off.”
She cupped her hands into binoculars and pressed them against her eyes. “I don’t see anything.”
Emma did a three-hundred-sixty degree pivot, scanning the horizon from the rooftop. “Nothing.” She let her arms fall to the side.
A half-moon hung close to the horizon between two skyscrapers to the west, barely fitting between the buildings. Almost directly above, the three stars of Orion’s belt dotted the celestial sphere, the remainder of the constellation obscured by Atlanta’s street lights. Save for a distant siren, the roof was an oasis of quiet.
Emma wrapped her arms around herself, her breath a trail of smoke, like the aftermath of a dragon’s fire. “Plus, it’s freezing. Can we go back to the party now? Everyone’s there drinking, eating, chatting, scoping out the mistletoe for a midnight kiss, having a really good time, while we’re on Grace’s roof looking for something you won’t even tell me about.” She expelled a raspy sigh. “You see the problem, Ben?”
“We have to wait until exactly midnight, which is—” Ben shoved his down jacket sleeve up and scanned his watch’s luminescent hands,“—in another seventy seconds.”
“I must be out of my mind. This is the worst New Year’s Eve ever.” She glared at Ben. “Ever.”
“It could appear from any direction.”
“And...now it’s too late to get back to the party by midnight. Thanks for nothing.” She shook her head. Ben stepped toward her, but she held her hand out like a traffic cop. “Just never talk about this again. Not to me, not to Grace, or anyone from the office. Maybe they’ll just not notice our absence.” She paused a beat and added, “I’m going to finish whatever champagne is left over and try to forget this entire thing.”
Ben went to speak, but Emma interrupted him before he could get out the first word. “I hate you. I hate myself even more for allowing you to talk me into this— whatever this stupid thing is we’re doing.” She shuffled her feet along the concrete. “What was I thinking?”
Emma stomped her foot and turned toward the roof door.
“Ten seconds.” He swiveled his head from left to right, did an about-face, and repeated his scan. “It’s coming!”
Emma followed his eyes, looking where he did. A faraway fluttering caught her attention, white wings of some sort, though she could make out other colors, blue, green, and yellow. Hundreds or thousands of flapping wings moved silently, distorting the sky as they flew, like a wake trailing behind a boat on a glassy lake. The flock gained altitude as it traveled north, forming a giant V. Birds?
As if reading Emma’s mind, Ben said, “Those aren’t birds.”
Faint cheers of “Happy New Year!” and the sound of popping corks zigzagged through the city.
“What am I seeing?” Emma scrunched her eyes, put her hand on Ben’s shoulder, and stood on her tiptoes, her jaw agape. Through the flock's wake, Emma could see red and blue planets encircled by spinning rings, swirling gold and silver nebula, stars winking in and out of existence, and comets darting in all directions, like summer fireflies.
Over the next minute, the flock faded into the distance, paper lanterns carried away by a river.
“Calendars,” Ben said. “Those are the discarded calendars of 2021. They fly away every New Year's, but it happens so fast and most people are too busy at parties to notice.”
"Where do the calendars go?"
Ben shrugged. "Wherever our memories dwell, I guess."
“Why?”
“To make room for new memories.”
Emma’s eyes opened wide. “It’s awesome.”
“It is.”
Emma turned to face Ben and said, “Now kiss me.”
If you enjoyed New Memories, I think you’ll like my story, The Train to Nowhere.
I can't say how much I enjoy your fiction, Bill.
That was pretty cool, and unexpected. I like it.