Tag Archives: Finding Nemo


Before my stroke, I hadn’t written any creative prose – other than short pieces for my girlfriend – for years. Decades, even. After writing  a bunch of stroke-related stuff, the first post-stroke piece of fiction I wrote concerned a guy waking up in the Royal Botanical Gardens of Edinburgh with no  memory. Quite fitting, I think, for someone who had spent his teenage years among the pubs of Auld Reekie recently woken up from a major brain injury unable to remember the President, the Prime Minister, or his age. As befits a first effort, Dunedin was a little overblown, but I liked it.

“The first sound was the prehistoric cawing of a cacophony of gulls.” Really?!

But we can get to that later. First….

[First? First, sign up for the apoplectic.me Tiny Letter here.
More stroke, more absurdité, fewer pictures of seagulls.
] Continue reading Apoplocalypse!

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