Vernon had spent years constructing a memory palace inside his mind. He would close his eyes and imagine a vast crystal structure with ten floors and ten rooms on each floor. In each of these rooms he visualized furniture with drawers and cabinets in which he stored names, dates, locations, and all other matters of things.
The trouble was, he could never quite remember in which room he stored something. He went through through drawer after drawer, setting aside the birthdays, computer passwords, dental appointments, and the names of coworkers, but could never find the piece of information he was looking for until hours later. He tried creating a room in the third hallway of the 23rd floor with a computer that had a directory for the other rooms, but this soon became a jumble of disorganized word files.
In desperation, Vernon used the computer to email his friend Sharon for help. Sharon kept a home that was as neat as a pin, and knew, to the penny, the exact amount of money in all of her financial accounts. Sharon’s memory palace was immaculate, of course, and she quickly used her mental computer (73rd floor, fourth room down) to tell him that she would be over immediately.
Sharon soon appeared inside Vernon’s mind, and shook her head at the jumble of folders on Vernon’s computer screen. Then she helped Vernon visualize numerous alphabetical and color coded containers and file cabinets. Into these he filed names of every Canadian Prime Minister, his list for tomorrow’s shopping, assorted soliloquies from Shakespeare, and countless other bits of ephemera.
When they arrived at the 10th room on the 100th floor, the door was locked, and Sharon asked Vernon for the key. Reluctantly, he shut his eyes even tighter as he visualized it, and handed it to her. Inside, Sharon found an empty room with a straw mat that invited quiet meditation. On the wall was a portrait of Sharon.
“Sorry,” said Vernon sheepishly. “I know this must look creepy. The only thing about which I’m crystal clear is that I adore you.”
It was then that Sharon, far from being upset by this room, invited Vernon to her memory palace, and showed him that she had in fact dedicated a room to him.
They combined their memory palaces, and saw no reason to go anywhere for their wedding. Instead they found a justice of the peace who himself had a memory palace, and they took their vows inside the chapel that the justice of the peace had built on the 62nd floor, seventh room down. These days, Vernon and Sharon often host parties in the lobby of their massive memory mansion, and the best part is, none of their friends need to leave their houses.
The trouble was, he could never quite remember in which room he stored something. He went through through drawer after drawer, setting aside the birthdays, computer passwords, dental appointments, and the names of coworkers, but could never find the piece of information he was looking for until hours later. He tried creating a room in the third hallway of the 23rd floor with a computer that had a directory for the other rooms, but this soon became a jumble of disorganized word files.
In desperation, Vernon used the computer to email his friend Sharon for help. Sharon kept a home that was as neat as a pin, and knew, to the penny, the exact amount of money in all of her financial accounts. Sharon’s memory palace was immaculate, of course, and she quickly used her mental computer (73rd floor, fourth room down) to tell him that she would be over immediately.
Sharon soon appeared inside Vernon’s mind, and shook her head at the jumble of folders on Vernon’s computer screen. Then she helped Vernon visualize numerous alphabetical and color coded containers and file cabinets. Into these he filed names of every Canadian Prime Minister, his list for tomorrow’s shopping, assorted soliloquies from Shakespeare, and countless other bits of ephemera.
When they arrived at the 10th room on the 100th floor, the door was locked, and Sharon asked Vernon for the key. Reluctantly, he shut his eyes even tighter as he visualized it, and handed it to her. Inside, Sharon found an empty room with a straw mat that invited quiet meditation. On the wall was a portrait of Sharon.
“Sorry,” said Vernon sheepishly. “I know this must look creepy. The only thing about which I’m crystal clear is that I adore you.”
It was then that Sharon, far from being upset by this room, invited Vernon to her memory palace, and showed him that she had in fact dedicated a room to him.
They combined their memory palaces, and saw no reason to go anywhere for their wedding. Instead they found a justice of the peace who himself had a memory palace, and they took their vows inside the chapel that the justice of the peace had built on the 62nd floor, seventh room down. These days, Vernon and Sharon often host parties in the lobby of their massive memory mansion, and the best part is, none of their friends need to leave their houses.
