There are certain associations that are made for us, not chosen
by us.
The young man who always feel chills when he hears the CAW of a flock of crows. After that crisp fall day that the cries followed a single gun shot across the valley. The birds, flushed out of the woods by the sound of the shot and the echo of the accident. His neighbor, Fred, falling out of a deer stand and killing himself.
The little boy, who can't eat Red licorice any more. Can't even stomach the smell of it. Because it was what he and his best friend were eating in the front yard the day his dog ran after the dumptruck and was crushed. Stupid dog.
The grown woman, 18 years removed from her Junior prom. She can't smell White rain hairspray or listen to Duran/Duran without thinking about one particular spring evening. The night she waited upstairs, combing her hair nervously. Getting ready. She did not even hear the phone ring as the guy she barely knew (Brad from Science class) called her mother to tell her he had last minute tickets to a Red Wings playoff game and was "really sorry" and couldn't go. "Sorry". He was.
All of these memories linger. As certain memories do. Can you reach some?