by practicalspactical

A world without memory. People respond to stimuli and follow instructions and are fed in return. People kiss and make love and fight and rape – people quiet and feed crying babies, or not and move on, unmoved. People feel joy and pain and fear and hunger and satiety, but do they love?

Are they people? They have thought but not memory. It is always now, and what happens, happens,

Memory comes like a disease, like a long forgotten flaw, a throwback, and the Cassandra’s who speak of it, are scorned, avoided, outcast. They can always return, because no one remembers their shame, and they are outcast again.

When someone dies, it is death for the first time, and the loss is inexplicable, and is pain felt or not? The body is buried. No stone is put there, until one of the Cassandras, who recognized the face of the one who is no longer, places a stone – and inexplicably amongst the people a graveyard is built

One Cassandra seeks to master and exploit, another to love and protect