Dore gave me three words: trousers, church, green. I was to remember them when he tests me for my short term memory. Hours later I am still thinking of these words but he has already gone to bed. He never asks me for them.
So much for the test, and maybe we’ll be all right. Experts suggest mental exercises. The brain needs stretching too, turning driveways into freeways.
All afternoon I was trying to memorize two lines of a poem. I’m still unsuccessful.