The small black leather-bound volume sat on the rough wooden surface of the table, covered by a thin layer of dust. Next to it, reclining on a dark-colored armchair, was its sleeping owner. His golden hair fell over his prematurely lined forehead, and his hand was resting on the table, mere inches from the ancient book. However, it had been long since those pale hands had turned its delicate pages. The book had been in his family for at least two centuries, passed down from father to son, until it came to be in his possession. The sound of a raven cawing resonated in the distance, and the man stirred awake, blinking several times as if waking up from a bad dream. For a moment, his eyes seemed to cloud with nostalgic memories.  Then that moment was gone, and the man rose from his chair. He tried to turn on the light, but the bulb flickered twice before dying. Not wanting to look for a candle or lamp, the man fell back into his armchair.

                His mind was filled with memories of his past. The memories of his childhood were hazy, almost as if they belonged to another person. Faces were racing through his mind, but he was unable to get a solid grasp on any of them. After a long minute, he stopped trying. It was after all, useless to hold on to the past. He was forgotten, and therefore had a right to forget. Everything he ever had in his life was gone. The only thing that still belonged to him was his name. That, and the Bible sitting on the table beside him.

He raised his hand hesitantly, reaching out to touch the book, but as his fingers approached it, he recoiled as if in fear. That small worn book was the only thing he still owned, the only link to his past. Yet, as reluctant as he was to let go of it, he was afraid of his it. Afraid and ashamed of what he had done. No, it was best to leave it alone. Two centuries worth of generations had owned it, saturating its yellowing pages with memories. He was afraid that by opening it he would lose himself once more in its pages, as he used to when he still believed in the words written upon them, and remember his past.