He walked up the drive way looking into the garage. Boxes stood tall against the furthest wall, tools hanged from the left, and on his right a child’s bicycle was hanged on the wall. He walked towards the bike; he spun the wheels trying to remember who it had once belonged to.

He looked at the boxes that stood against the wall. A picture of a young girl rested on top of a box. He walked a cross to the box and picked up the picture. The young girl in the picture was riding her bicycle down the street while smiling at the camera as she past it. He looked at the next picture and saw himself staring back at him, and the young girl was standing next to him smiling.

He had a handful of pictures of this young girl, but he had no memory of her. He sat on the floor next to the boxes looking at the pictures of the girl, he started to tear up. He wondered if his memory would ever come back, and release him from this misery.