We had all forgotten. It was something important, we were sure of that. Regular meetings were convened in proud red brick buildings where pale rectangles patterned the walls, speaking of furnishings recently removed. Our voices echoed around us, though we had litttle to say.
Our infants ran riot. By that I mean they had fun. Hundreds of little soldiers with their own little battlefield in their back room. We sat in rows in the main room wondering when their game would end.
Memories are tricky things. We had our phones of course, thank god, but there just seemed to be so many gaps. I mean vast swathes. Some of them we filled through discussion but others, well.
After a while we started to forget what the meetings themselves were for, all except me. I thought ahead. I'd typed into my phone: MEETING TO REMEMBER. MEETING TO REMEMBER.