Gaddag's Unofficial Blog

Once upon a time I read a short story collection The Bet on the Dead Jockey by Irwin Shaw. One of the stories is about an aging man who goes to work every day. One day he realizes that he can't find his way back home. There's a similar story by Isaac Bashevis Singer - it appeared in The New Yorker years ago, but, as you may have guessed, I've forgotten its title. Oh boy, I keep forgetting the most elementary words, names... The sunny shores of the River of Forgetting are getting closer and closer.