Just like Proust

As I removed a slice of whole wheat cranberry-walnut bread from its zip-lock plastic bag and laid it on a paper napkin next to my mouse pad, I felt the stirring of a vague memory somewhere. When I broke off a corner of a slice of bread and put it in my mouth, the long-dormant memory sprang to life like the opening scene of a movie, or a long-lost friend who suddenly shows up at your door. And in the slightly dried-out, faintly sweet, chewy texture of the cranberry-walnut bread came swimming back an entire wave of long-buried multi-sensory experience, hidden but not lost in the weeks past, of looking up the biographies of famous people in a couple of reliable sources and writing the shortest possible blurb with all the journalistic craft at my disposal.

It's pretty cool how the mind works, oh ya.