Returning to the land of the living was a long road traveled for Joseph, but the process doesn't end at merely living.
Barnaby tapped the pencil against the table, without rhythm, staring at the notebooks in front of him.
One red, one green. One for old memories, one for new ones. His therapist’s idea. “This way you don’t have to worry so much about forgetting. And perhaps it will assist you in remembering old things, as well,” she’d said with her ever unreadable expression.
He hadn’t meant anything by the colors when he bought them.