The now. The incident and the event are real,but only as long as they happen, for memories, also, are unreal.Very well. Let me explain. Perhaps an exa...ple will help. My breasts arereal when their weight is in my hands--or yours. They have density, then;they are tangible; they are measurable. Unmistakably, they haveexistence. But, after the moment, when they are no longer held, they arejust ideas, nothing more than memories.Eva, my former love, says I am too philosophical: "too philosophicalfor. .. our kind of people.”“What’s our kind of people, then?” “You know. Stunningly beautiful like me; handsome and hunky like you.”“Mmm, tall order,” I said, grinning like an idiot.“Very tall. Do such people exist?” she said“Doubt it.”“Shame.”She smiled, her eyes full of her love as she came to me and kissed me like she did the very fist timeIt wasn’t an obsession at first. Every so often we’d pick our way through the photo-ads together. All those people wanting to meet other people and do. More

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