Memories of an Amnesiac
A story based on a dream that made me cry, this had to be written before I forgot it.My name is El-My name is E-I don’t know my name. Who am I? More importantly, where am I?Oh.I didn’t quite know what I was doing at the ceremonial event. It was not ‘my kind of scene’. But there I was at the opening credits of the play, formal wear on, in one of the best seats. Somehow I was placed next to a man most of the world loved. He was a famous man, and he had enormous executive power in the country. But I didn’t l...