The creek was ice-cold and the footing was difficult. Water splashed onto my jeans as I sprinted across the shallow water and onto the sandy stretch of shore on the other side. Adrenaline fueled my steps and the forest swallowed me up; I felt like a wild creature, sprinting between trees and struggling to muffle my breathing and footfalls. 

The sound was one I cannot forget. It reacted to the atmosphere corrosively, proving that it did not belong here. Rippling through the air it let out a scream and a thrum and a hiss all in one. It made my hair stand on end. 

The trees were thinner here; the moonlight cast a shadow that I soon realized marked the beginning of an outcropping of boulder. I groaned and clutched my leg, trying to get up again. It would bear no weight.

I dragged myself into the shadows of the trees, breathing hard, panicking.

Tears bit my eyes. Wincing at the pain, I breathed out onto the rain-soaked pine needles, whispering, "Emaoryth..." 

Now...

Or perhaps it wasn't "bad" memory - just terribly inefficient. After all, he remembered plenty of things that were completely useless, like license plate numbers and street addresses and dates, all unconnected to any sort of value. 

The corner of his room harbored more than a few discarded papers. One appeared to be a drawing of a cat. Joe tried not to dwell on this, his attention then spinning to other things. Why am I here? Why - 

"Oh!" He yelled. "It's her birthday. I need to... need to... flowers or something." He glanced up at the calendar. "Shoot. Yesterday was. I..." He grabbed his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Look, I'm really sorry. I forgot about your birthday. I'm horrible, I know, I know."

There was an awkward laugh on the end of the line. "Sorry," She said, "Who is this?"

"Joe?"

"Look, 'Joe', I don't know who you are or how you got my number... my birthday isn't for a couple of weeks. Have a nice day. Bye!"

"Ok, listen. The fight we had was about some trouble she had down where she works. Supposedly some drug dealers were after her for some reason or something. She said it was really serious."

"Drug dealers?"

"Yes. So she's going on about how we should both flee the country together and I tell her I can't. You see...I still love my wife. I can't just run off with some hooker. So then she gets really mad with me. She asks me whether I still love her and I tell her yes. But then she storms off out the house."

"Where is this place she works?"

"Eveldale drive. By the strip club there."