My mind is splintering. Some days it is enough to see, remember fragments of the past. Trips to France, New York, a white face pops in and out of my memory, not sure where or when.
At present I am lucid enough to see my life in the boxes my brain dictates.
Before long the splintering will cause the images I love and hold as dear to jump from box to box.
Then I will lose all sense of where, when and why.
In my brain the splintering continues.
Occasionally a crack heralds my accelerating decline.
Morpethroad 
Great take on the prompt. I’ve had family members suffer from memory loss, it is a very sad situation.
Thanks Lewis. It is indeed.
Very well written, and also very scary – losing my mind/memory is one of my greatest fears.
I love your use of “splintering” and “crack(ing)” to illustrate a mind in decline.
Thanks for the comment. The idea came in considering what happens when the order we see in our lives begins to disintegrate.
Really beautiful imagery here, a great way of presenting memory loss.
Thank you MissK. Appreciate you reading my posts.
Love the image of a splintering brain 🙂
Thank you Anja. A good image I thought to illustrate the disintegrating mind.
It’s good that a few of us have seen this image as representing the human brain. Good work Summer.
Thanks Paul seemed a reasonable way to go.
I feel the almost impossible to resist urge to try to organise my life extremely rigidly at the moment – my memory is shockingly poor right now, when it used to be almost infallible. I thought your interpretation was very clever, sadly I sense more than a little insight into this phenomenon.
Thank you Freya, I played with the notion of our minds being a series of boxes in which everything sits neatly, but what happens when we start to forget where things are because we can’t find them.
I think I need to find my own boxes, let alone the things that I wanted to put in them! A reflection of my current living situation, since amongst everything else, I moved house in the last few weeks. So, there are lots of real things I can’t find either, let alone the metaphorical items. You did a great job with your piece.
Thanks Freya. Moving house is no fun at any time. I hope things get sorted out soon for you.
you have described the feelings well here Summer – of loss of thought, memory, how our lives in our brains are structured and one small crack could see our world crumble. Nice. 🙂
Thank you RM, you are very generous as always. The boxes gave me the idea of our brains being like that and lose of memory must be like the boxes getting all mixed up and not know why.
I saw that immediately, the tope tier falls…oh dear and that is how it must happen. You are welcome for the comment as always my friend.
Nice approach 🙂
Hello and thank you for reading my work. Call again.
Dear Summerstommy,
This is spookier than a vampire story. Good one.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Thank you Rochelle, I think that’s a lovely comment, I think….lol
It was meant as a compliment. Alzheimers is frightening and all too real. we’re watching the person who was once my mother-in-law slip away. Vampires aren’t real, dementia is.
Yes i well know. I had a mate die recently. Taken from his family way too young.
Dear Summerstommy,
Memory is a fragile thing and you captured its leaving very well. Aare we truly the same people once it is completely gone?
Aloha,
Doug
Thanks Doug, the simple answer is no.
oh, what a poor thing,
Thank you Charles, yes it is a sad thing.
Fantastic use of metaphor, darling. Strange that many people took the idea of senility, or memory loss, or otherwise losing one’s mind this week.
thank you Helena. Yes it is odd that the prompt took so many along that path. It could be the nature of the items in the image had an association with things old.
This was wonderful! I love the way you used this as an analogy for the way the brain can box things up and put them out of our reach. We can only see the box, but we can’t read the label. (Like when I can’t think of the name of a someone who starred in a movie when I know the name of the movie, the plot, etc.) I used to drive an 86-year-old man around on errands. He said that losing his memory is felt like a veil that dropped between him and his mind. I thought that was a chilling description. I just hope my veil is at least a little bit see-through!
Thank you Linda. One would hope that all our veils stay see through. So hard to imagine what losing your mind must be like.
That was sad, too sad, we are really preparing ourselves for our own future decline, but I don’t like it. But, I guess there is nothing we can do about it. They call it entropy. I hate entropy. I hate the universe, in case you didn’t know.
Oh Laura, you comment is so sad. Hate the universe? Really? The randomness of life can leave us questioning it but I would think the beauty that exists within it, even if it is for a short time is worth all the angst associated with disliking it.But I appreciate your forthright comment.
My apologies if I got your name wrong, maybe another example of randomness on my part!!
Brilliantly written – I think it is your precise choice of vocabulary and clever repetition.
Thank you Neens, you are very generous. Thanks again for reading.
Great imagery. I like your word choices of “splintering” and “cracking,” both painful and severe. I like your take on the prompt.
Thank you Amy. They are telling words aren’t they.
Now that was scary, my worst fear. Really well done.
Thanks Jackie it is a scary subject.
The breakdown of our memory is one of life’s more scary prospects. Great internal dialog on a serious subject. Ron
Thanks Ron. With luck it wont affect me, but for so many it is a reality.
This is well written and quite scary. We all journey on, hoping it won’t happen to us.
Well done
Dee
Thanks Dee, yes we all have that hope, though as you know it does touch our lives far to often.
I had a mate die this year, aged 57, dememtia plus motor neurone disease. Very sad.
I love the title!
Thanks Dawn for reading my post.
Great POV at this… must be terrible when you experience this…
Thanks Bjorn, yes I think it must be one of the worst things, though the sufferers often are not aware, that is sad.
I am a tad behind on return visits… Thanks for yours.
I really like this – because I can relate via my aging mother and mother-in-law. On my last visit with them over the summer – each one in turn only showed moments of lucidity.
While sad, the best way to honor those who are loosing themselves is to allow them the presence and present moments they do have. Even if those moments are not clear to us.
Thanks Jules.Yes it can be hard as our parents age. Thankfully for me my father was ok in the head up until the moment of his death.It is hard to imagine what goes on in people’s minds to take them away from us as happens to so many.