The minute they call life.

I was lying down doing nothing and suddenly this weird thought occurred to me. In ten days would I remember lying down and doing nothing? In one year would I remember what I had for breakfast that day? In twenty years, would I remember anything that happened that year? That was when I realized that the only way to approximate an answer to any of those questions would be to find out what I remember of my life so far. Possessed by a morbid sense of curiosity complemented well by the fact that I had nothing else to do, I closed my eyes and pushed the rewind button. I just wanted to see what I spent the past twenty years doing.
After a minute or so, I was back and I was surprised. My immediate recollections, which I defined as the summary of my life that I would see if my heart were to suddenly stop beating, was nothing like I had imagined it to be. I had thought it would consist of moments with friends, family or something like that, but they were never there. What I saw were things , people and places that felt like they belonged in a different age and time. I was a bit stunned to say the least.
The first thing I remembered was my first letter. It was a crooked 'A' that I had written with someone guiding my hand. That was probably the first sign that my handwriting was going to be one of the ugliest things, humanity has ever been cursed with, but that particular letter somehow stuck in my memory. I can only speculate on the feeling that must have possessed me when I cleared that particular milestone. Whatever it was, it must soon have been drowned in the rebuke that inevitably followed, for not writing it properly.
Then there was a cow. This account will seem particularly eccentric, but I'll stand by what I saw for I'm sure I saw it. I must have been about eight. I was walking back from school and I saw a cow. Nothing out of ordinary so far, but that will all go to hell once I tell you that this particular cow had a something that looked like a small timepiece embedded on its back. I know I sound crazier than most crazy people, but it is true and on second thought, I do remember standing there and considering risking my life to go near it and find out for sure. It was a little bigger than a coin, had numbers on it and back then, a watch was all I could think of that fulfilled those conditions. And no, I do not have a history of mental illness.
The next thing I remembered was a bloody drill. I was lying there with my mouth forced open and the drill had just finished drilling a hole that went as far as my nasal cavity. It was a dental operation, I had to undergo when I was about 12, and they did not bother to put me to sleep. So there I was, not feeling a single thing going on in my mouth thanks to all the injections. It wasn't much of a problem when the only thing you saw was your dentist's eyes from behind his mask, gazing wondrously in to your mouth, as if it was a doorway to a distant dream. But then the bloody drill comes out and I'm sure my dentist would remember the look of horror in my eyes as much as I remember the drill.
The last thing I remember before I opened my eyes was a girl. I do not know who she is, I saw her in a bus, and she isn't the hottest girl I've seen. But then she smiled and for some reason it stuck to my mind. And that is all I have to say about that.
So there you go. Twenty years spent meeting people, fighting with family, chilling out with friends and traveling, not to mention the countless films and all the girls, and the things that first spring to mind is a letter, a cow, a drill and a not so hot girl. Life sure is a weird thing.