She’d tied it — she distinctly remembered — just after breakfast, before the day’s long hours further diluted her consciousness. A failsafe against the drip, drip, drip of declining memory.

But now, staring at the knotted piece of string circumnavigating her ring finger, its purpose had vanished, like breath on a windowpane.

Steven Lemprière also wore a string ring. It was to remind him to write a bio.