Forgetting

It was their responsibility to collect memories, a punishment for their own indiscretions. The cruelty being that they had no memories of her own, unable even to remember what they were being punished for. It was a Sisyphean task of Herculean proportions, with only the far-off promise of one day possibly regaining their own memories, driving them forward. It was a way to live vicariously nonetheless, even if only through second-hand memories. These memories that were now thoroughly weathered and spent, more likely than not no longer useful to the original memory-holder. Even so, the bits and pieces they collected were priceless to them, becoming a type of currency, and a source of entertainment. And they were somewhat content with this existence, that is until their youngest member came upon a memory that she was a part of, and their whole world came tumbling down.