God, I’m drunk. I miss Spock’s touch at night. I like how he kisses me on the ear. I need to pee. I wonder if Sulu’s awake. Maybe we could get some Pho. Wait. Is Sulu Chinese? Or Mexican. I need to remember to delete this in the morning.
Just wanted to get that off my chest.
World-renowned Harvard symbology professor Robert Langdon suddenly remembered that he had an eidetic memory. His memory was eidetic, remembering all. He had forgotten this until just now, and suddenly remembered it because of the eidetic nature of his memory. He turned to the impossibly beautiful woman, five foot six and wearing Versace and her name was Nuance Bellovar, who was statuesquely standing close to the renowned Langdon.
My memory. It is eidetic. This thought scrambled through Langdon’s remarkable brain, which could remember everything. My brain, thought Langdon. It is remarkable.
“My memory,” said Langdon. “I just recalled a fact about its nature, which is that it is eidetic.”
Nuance pondered this beautifully and gracefully. As she herself was also a genius, which Langdon was too, and a member of a secret society which Langdon had heard of once when he was a student vacationing in Florence, Italy, Nuance was able to grasp the significance of the eidetic memory of her companion, who was unlike her in so many ways but also very alike in many ways.
“Good,” Nuance’s smooth voice said smoothly. “That will aid us in our search,” the dark-haired, olive-skinned woman of somewhere around 36 said smoothly.
But your memory cannot recall what it does not know, thought Nuance’s genius mind. And it does not know that I am not what I seem.
At least, it added dramatically and with foreshadowing, not yet.