It was an undramatic memory of reading an article by a specific writer, in a specific magazine while on a bus trip. I never questioned the memory until I tried to track down a copy of the article, which tuned out not to exist. The author’s photo I’d recalled seeing with the article turned out to be someone else entirely. The author I believed to have written the piece had written no such thing, and what’s more, a little digging showed that the information recalled from the article was only partly correct.

This could be attributed to dozing off and having a realistic dream, except that I was sure I’d bought the magazine at a certain shop…which turned out not to have been built until a year after this memory supposedly took place. I must have added things to this memory as time went on, never realizing it. The only thing that can be pinned down is the date of the bus trip, and that’s only because I rarely take a bus anywhere.

I would never have questioned the reality of this had I not gone looking for that article. How memories are created is a fascinating subject.