Bag Full of Name

He had forgotten name. Not just his name, but the whole idea of names and naming. He didn’t like it. He climbed from the soft, warm thing and went into the cold, shiny place. He splashed something wet on his face.

He looked at the very shiny thing and saw something behind him. It was gray and had sharp teeth. It also had a bag full of name.

“I’ve stolen them all,” the thing told him. “What will you sacrifice to have them back?”

His face wrinkled, and more wet came out. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know.”