I was holding my memory shop, as usual, and I was going through inventory. This shop had been going through a rough patch. People don’t have the money to buy memories anymore.

“Wait…” I whisper to myself as I notice something strange.

A memory had disappeared, and it hadn’t been written in the books. Someone had stole a memory. My memory. But I couldn’t remember which one it was. Of course I didn’t, it was a memory, and if I don’t have a memory, how am I supposed to remember it?

I grabbed my bag, and quickly rushed out of the shop. I needed to find the thief. Fortunately, I had cameras that scanned the face of all the shoppers. And only two came in the last week. It had to be one of them.

I run through the city, scanning every face in sight, when I spot one of the suspects. I run to him, and I grab his arm.

“Hey! Did you stole from me?” I ask him. He wouldn’t admit if he did it, obviously, so I punched him.

“Tell me!” I yelled.

He whimpered at the impact, and fell to the ground. His body was shaking as he gave me his bag. I open it, and inside were two of my memories. Two? He had stolen two? And I didn’t notice. Was I missing something else?

“Did you steal something else?” I ask him, suspicious.

He shook his head. I felt like he was hiding something but I let him be.

I returned to my shop with my bag and the thief’s bag, and put the stolen memories back in place.

But something told me that it wasn’t the end of it.