Invincible. Long ago, for moments it may have felt this way, without the word 'invincible' coming to mind. Rushing through the woods, racing across the Alps. Without care or concern. And back to the job of days, being a worker. Being human evaporates into offices, routines, repetitions. The journey to the job, maybe reading, a newspaper, looking out the train window, and then underground. Memory blurs these times into a box of ashes. What have you to show yourself of these times? What of this memory for now, from then? How does memory feel?