Your Name Escapes Me

I remember you. Just not your name

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

You can tell I’ve forgotten, can’t you?

You’re too nice to point that out, of course, which in a way makes me feel even stupider. But I’m standing in the endless checkout line at the big-box retailer and you roll your shopping cart up behind mine and say, “Hi, Jan!” and I, startled out of wondering if I was supposed to…