Milo's Story: Stories From The Gateway: Companion Tales To The Gateway Trilogy - Plot & Excerpts
I don’t mean the kind of fading they naturally do while we’re alive—into the rosy colors and vague impressions of a past we don’t have room in our brains to remember in detail. I’m talking about the fading they do the instant we die. There’s a wall that goes up, between the life you had and the half-life you’ve chosen to cling to. The memories are there, but separate from you, on the other side of that wall, and no amount of thinking and feeling and dwelling can haul them over clearly to the other side. Dying is the equivalent of cutting the cords that link them to you, so that you seem to have no real connection to them anymore. This is true of every memory I have—my childhood, my family, my school days and summer vacations—each one an image that means less and less with every passing day out of my body. But not the memories of I have with her. Every moment I spent with her is as sharp and clear as though it happened a moment ago. And I think that that must be what it means to be Bound; our story has become the only true part of my story.
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