by Jerry Ratch
I remember telling you that I listened to country music. You surprised me with a whole tape that you recorded of all my favorites and I didn't know how you figured them out, except that you must have snuck up beside my bedroom window at night.
And I dreamt that you came in through my bedroom window and made love to me and I woke up and was very, very wet and I called you the next day and I remember giving you a very special treat that night that I hoped you would never forget.
I remember so many things … do you remember who I am yet? I attached pictures to jog your memory, including the house on Euclid Avenue where I lived.
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Voice of the Past
I'm thinking all the voices in your collection should be just women.
I enjoyed this.
But perhaps consider deleting the last sentence... and ending with "... do you remember who I am yet.?
The last sentence, for me, makes it feel like the story is oddly truncated.