Prosopangosia: So That's Why I Never Recognize Anyone!
He was walking towards me and waved. A man in a suit — tall, thin, 50s, sandy hair. I waved back, half-heartedly. He was close enough that I could see him smile. Our paths were going to cross, unless I suddenly crossed the street, but that would be utterly stupid because I know him — but I have no idea who he is. I gave him my closed-mouth polite smile.
“I don’t see you at the gym anymore,” he said.
(Oh no, which gym?, I thought.)
“I only go to Northampton Athletic Club,” I told a man I had never seen before.
“Are you still a trainer?” he asks. Read more >