My iPhone keeps on flashing up ‘Memories’ photos, which have a jarring rather than nostalgic effect.
A couple of days ago, it flashed up a close-up of Lizzie – taken days before I helped shave off all of her hair, a month or so previously.
In the photo, Lizzie’s hair goes down over her shoulders. It’s dark brown – as it has been ever since we’ve been together (she did bleach it blonde in her twenties, before we became a couple). Despite the fact she’s already started chemo, in the pic, Lizzie is smiling. Looks-wise, she always reminds me a little of a younger Jenny Agutter (or an older Jenny Agutter, depending on when your mental image of Jenny Agutter is from).
Seeing Lizzie with hair – from so recently – is discombobulating. I’ve become used to the puckish, bald version of her now.
I don’t realise at the time, but this is only the start of my iPhone flashing up unnerving images at me – as precious ‘memories’. As if, thanks to some strange new algorithm, it’s trying to fuck with my brain.
There’s stranger stuff to come – as you’ll see.
P. D. Clifton 
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