The Memorist
Inheriting her grandmother's ability to taste memories, she guards a preserved blackberry holding future visions while scientists seek to control what we remember.
My grandmother could taste memories. The first occasion I experienced this was when I was seven years old. We gathered around her kitchen table, with sunlight streaming through the timeworn lace curtains. She scooped up blackberry cobbler with her spoon, brought it to her mouth, and shut her eyes. Her expression changed—not merely with the enjoyment of sugary taste, but with a more profound emotion. "August 1962," she whi...
