Ever had a sensation so strong it dressed itself up as a memory and took up residence in your head? Presented itself for inspection at regular intervals, just like a real memory? Gathered nostalgia over time?

Every once in a while, on the verge of sleep, I “remember” that time I was a brown little grubby thing, some sort of fuzzy digger, and I squiggled and squiggled in the dirt, wedging myself into the cosiest corner of my burrow. I “remember” the dry smell of dust, the itch of it settling into my fur. I had a long tail, hairier than a rat’s, less hairy than a squirrel’s. I don’t know what I was, maybe a weasel.

Where did that come from? Did I dream it once?

Mm…I “remember” my sneezy wee nose….

PS – I had a funny discussion, the other day, about human tails. About how, if we had tails, we could put them over our bumholes to indicate disinterest in anal sex. (Well, we could.)