At Rain's Grey Remembering
The rain always came down grey and cold. But it never stopped him. Touching his forehead lightly with his thumb, he opened the door and went out into the front garden. He remembered that it used to be called a garden, but he had forgotten why. The plants choked his path, crowding into his face. He pushed them aside as he made his way through to the front gate. Each motion shot a swarm of droplets into the air. For a moment it was as if some hidden essence was revealed, but almost immediately the illusion was gone. The greyness descended as it always did.
“Tell me about your dream, Carl.” It always seems to me at the start of a session that the Therapist’s voice has a faint German accent. Maybe it is some programmer’s sense of humour at work.
As always I am aware of every electrode attached to my scalp.
I stare at the line of cold metal that disappears into the bank of input
sensors in front of me.
“Carl, you did dream, didn’t you?”
I nod my head and say, “No.”
“Please, Carl, no contradictory signals.”
“Tell me about your dream, Carl.” It always seems to me at the start of a session that the Therapist’s voice has a faint German accent. Maybe it is some programmer’s sense of humour at work.
As always I am aware of every electrode attached to my scalp.
I stare at the line of cold metal that disappears into the bank of input
sensors in front of me.
“Carl, you did dream, didn’t you?”
I nod my head and say, “No.”
“Please, Carl, no contradictory signals.”
Praise for "At Rain's Grey Remembering"
Honorable Mention in The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror: 8th Annual Collection (edited by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling).
Publication History
"At Rain's Grey Remembering" has been published several times, including in German as "Ein grauer, dräuender Regen" in Die Pilotin. An earlier shorter version of the story, titled "The Last Memory" appeared in Night Slivers #4.
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