"I am starting to believe you love trouble, little lady. What brings you here again?" Dennis asked me when he saw me in his hospital.
I laughed at his question, sitting down on the chair in front of his desk. He had a stethoscope around his neck, staring down at the file in front of him. I believed it was a file of one of his patients.
"Hello, Dennis. And no, I don't look for trouble. I was here to talk about a condition." I said, feeling uneasy. And he smiled at me, trying to make me feel comfortable, which was quite a difficult task.
"Of course, Valeria. Tell me, are you feeling okay?"
"Yes, yes. I am perfectly healthy. I just wanted to talk about the recurrent flashes of memories I had been getting. I get them as a nightmare, and the rest of the day I live in the illusion that m
