I realized before I married him that my husband’s memory could present problems, especially with my own scattered system (I can remember my phone number that we changed from when I was seven), and every now and then he reinforces my fears.
Just yesterday I read and posted on Alfred Hitchcock Presents Stories for Late at Night, and in particular, Jerome Bixby’s story, It’s A Good Life. I mentioned the book to Jim, asked him if he ever watched (and liked) Hitchcock or Twilight Zone when he was a kid, and he proceeds to tell me the story of "a kid named Anthony who wishes people into cornfields." He remembered that particular story and brought it up before I even mentioned it!
There may be more than memory for me to worry about now. Thank goodness Willie hasn’t been on my mind much lately…
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology