EXTRACT FROM SUITCASE OF MEMORY
FORTY days. That’s all you get, the elders say. Day one: The informant will come, whether in a dream or daze. Set things right, the informant will say. Say your goodbyes. You won’t know why, but suddenly you’ll start to wonder about that childhood friend you used to play pick-up sticks with in Apricot Close in Westridge near the park. You’ll seek out that second cousin you suddenly stopped speaking to five years ago after an ugly fallout over your favourite recipe.
