THE STORIES OF THE FORGETTER
Date: Fri, 15 Aug 97 11:45:55 -0800
x-mailer: Claris Emailer 1.1
From: the_forgetter <firstname.lastname@example.org>
To: "email@example.com" <firstname.lastname@example.org>
I have heard whisperings around the lab that you have received a drawing from the historian. The scientists don't believe we have a father, but I know the truth. You have seen his face, and I am constantly reminded of him when I search my room.
Yesterday I found one of his nail clippings on the floor. When father was sick he would lie in bed for days. No talking, no crying, no yelling. He couldn't get out of the bed for the bathroom, he couldn't go to the barber to get his hair cut. He couldn't even leave to go to the bathroom.
He would sit festering in his bed. We were small. We couldn't help.
Some days his feet would stick out from the covers, and we could see his yellowed and twisted toe nails. They scared us, and sometimes we would cry.
Norwood was upset with us for being afraid of the nails, and told Franklin to trim them. Franklin didn't want to. Franklin was angry, but Norwood forced him to do it. Leandra helped him, but he was still very angry.
I kept the nail clippings so I would not forget.