A Much of a Which of a WindChapter 18
We kind of patched it up Sunday. No, I wasn't really all that sure her memory wouldn't carry over, I admitted; yes, I knew she'd remember. I pretended to be completely over my snit of the night before and she pretended to believe me. But underneath there was still a lot of tension. The more I thought about it, the more my comparison with computer RAM made sense. I mean, could this really be the first time in human history that somebody'd been bad hurt and their minds had strayed away...