Roland Burrows -The Mind Clock (39KB)

The old man looked into the doctor’s eyes. “Bruce Hopkins,” he said ina soft voice. They shook hands. He’s got big hands for a doctor, more like aboxer.“I’d like to ask you a few questions to test your memory. Is that allright?”“I suppose so, but it’s David who is having trouble rememberingthings.”The doctor and Jack exchanged smiles. Sheila reached for Jack’shand.An old woman with inflammation around her eyes was lambastinganother woman in Italian. The other woman looked at her and shruggedbefore shuffling away.There’s nothing wrong with my memory. I can remember when I wasthree years old . . . sitting on the little seat on the back of Mum’s bike,clutching her jumper–“What day is it Mr Hopkins?”“Eh? Bruce.”“What day is it Bruce?”“What day . . . Tuesday?”“No. It’s Friday. That’s all right though. What year is it?”“What year?” What’s the matter with this joker?“Yes, what year?”“What do you mean?” Why is he asking these questions? David knowswhat year it is. There are some strange people here. That bloke at the other6