I dreamed I was the last person to forget a name

I stood in a long corridor of empty rooms, each one holding a memory that wasn’t mine. People kept walking past me, whispering names into the air—names I’d never heard before, but felt like they belonged to me. I didn’t say anything. Just listened. When I finally turned to leave, the hallway began to fade behind me, and I realized: I hadn’t forgotten any of them. Not one. And that was the strangest part.