Losing the plot…

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

I sat and stared, listening to my mouth continuing about its business. With a curious, detached prescience, I was acutely aware that my words were about to run out. I his name. Needed to end my speech with it. I knew that I knew it. But could I recall it?

I was exhausted, I ached, I’d driven for hours on little sleep… all good reasons. Even so, the blank spot was curious. A ‘senior moment’?

It would have been bad enough were I speaking to a new acquaintance; I am notoriously bad with names in person, though I never forget faces. I pass people in the street, folk I met years ago, and remember them. I can remember the circumstances… even if I only met them briefly in the line of business, but names escape me.

Oddly, though, the people I meet mostly online, I remember by name. It is…

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