My brother lost his memory about our childhood. "I don't remember anything. Anything at all." I remember every single sound, taste, picture, object, smell of our life together. We were a community. A sort of hippy community. We were ten families, living all together. A lot of children. My brothers and sisters. A lot of dads and mums. His memory is in the dark side. I will take a torch. And, as if we were still children, lying in the dark, inside of our house made of pillows and clothes and clips, I will start telling him a story.
"I will tell you your story!"
Let me start.