Re-wired

"Listen" I say, pausing mid-conversation. "My flatmate is playing really beautiful music". I stumble off my bed and into the lounge next door, raising the receiver into the air to catch the notes. I bring him back to my ear, "It's Chopin he says, we used to listen to it when we went to sleep, don't you remember?" And in a dark, distant cavern in my head a switch is flicked. A light has lit up a corner of darkness. The wiring to this switch is old and uncertain, it sparks and sputters all the way down the tunnel of my throat and comes to rest in one panging, electrical surge in the mains box in my chest. Yes, I remember.