My brain is running out of RAM, or is it ROM? There was no cloud to save my memories to when I was growing up, so I’ve been forced to delete and compress my files as I went along life’s journey. Lately fragments of two short stories have come floating to the fore. Wish I could remember the authors so I can look them up. I’m thinking that these stories are somehow pertinent to the present.
Both would have been written in the fifties or maybe early sixties. One story is about a duck hunter who shoots a flock of birds from the back, one at a time, so those in front aren’t alerted to what’s happening and frightened off. The other story is about an itinerant worker, a sort of medieval minstrel who (secretly) doles out lines he’s memorised from Dante, Shakespeare and Defoe to the knowledge hungry townspeople in exchange for food and shelter. The town blossoms and the subversive was taken away by the authorities and had his memories erased. I’d very much like to reread those stories so if anyone knows who wrote them, please let me know.