Link to article: First of March.
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[[include info:start]] Tale: First of March Author: [[*user ThatGuyRichard]] Original: [http://fondazionescp.wikidot.com/primo-marzo| Primo Marzo] Translator: [[*user Roberto Turati]] [[include info:end]] **First of March 2023, 23:58** This is it, it's almost time. My name's Andrea Marsi and I'm in a restroom at Site Iride, sitting on a toilet. In a few minutes, it will be midnight and I'll forget what happened over the last year. Like every year. Like on every 2^^nd^^ March. My mind will erase all memories from one year until then. Every year. Someone must be looking for me out there. They make me stay here until midnight every time, to help me overcome the shock and make sure this doesn't end in a mess, but I don't want to be found. Six years ago today, on 1^^st^^ March, I was amnesticized to forget something. I don't remeber what that was, but it's not strange - though unusual - for a Foundation researcher to ask to forget something too horrible, should their task be completed -- and if the Foundation no longer needs them to remember. However, something went wrong that time. Probably an irregularity in my brain structure, or perhaps the long term effects of some anomaly I'd been exposed to before. Regardless, every year ever since, on 2^^nd^^ March, I forget what happened since the last 2^^nd^^ March. I remember nothing about the last five - nearly six - years of my life. They've been trying to fix this for years, but to no avail. I forget everything every year. Every year, all of a sudden, it's like I didn't live for a whole year. Sure, they can tell me what happened, what I did, about the great world events, but I wasn't there. Not really. My wife dumped me a few years ago. Did it happen because of my condition, my job, or something else? I don't remember. My father died of illness a couple of years ago. Were we on good terms when he died? Was I with him in the hospital, when he passed away? I don't remember. Every year, I try to glue the pieces of part of my life back together. But I feel like I didn't lead that life and I invariably give up. I can't change the past, although I have no past. At that point, I try rebuilding a life, being happy, living. Before forgetting everything. This year, I met a woman and fell in love with her. I spent a wonderful period of my life thanks to her, full of joy and cheerfulness. I broke up with her a few weeks ago, breaking her heart, and I'll forget her in a few minutes. Because, after all, what's the point? Her beautiful smile. I'll forget it. The light brightening her green eyes when she saw me? I'll forget it. The aroma of her favorite shampoo permeating her hair? I'll forget it. That late afternoon where I met her by chance in a bar? I'll forget it. That evening where I told her I loved her and she filled me with the purest joy I ever witnessed, as far as I can remember? I'll forget it. Very soon, she never will have existed. I take the gun safety off. Very soon, for the fifth time, I'll lose one year of my life. Once again, I'll learn that my wife dumped me, my father is dead and I haven't been living for six years. And I won't learn that I fell in love again, that I was happy. I won't remember Marta. I have little time. I raise the gun and point it at my head. Someone knocks on the door. «Occupied!» I shout. Why can't a guy ever get a little... **00:00** ... Why am I sitting on a toilet?