The red light at the traffic signal blared. A drop of sweat trickled slowly down her back as a storm of confusion clouded her mind. She stood in the centre, waiting for her brain to give it’s own signal. And as the light changed from red to green, a deafening set of horns blew loud into the sticky, polluted air. She clamped her ears with her hands, running onto the other side. A daze. A haze. A phase. What was this? Where was she? A beeping sound came from somewhere in her bag. She searched for it and found a metallic object. A bunch of colourful lights were displayed on its surface. It read, “Have chocolate.” As she put the metallic object in her bag, she felt a large box inside. It was filled with button shaped hazelnuts dipped in chocolate. She had one and felt it melt in her mouth instantly. The silky texture of the milky cocoa coated her mouth, diffusing a sense of warmth in her body. And with the warmth came the memory. She grabbed the metallic object and pressed the emergency number, “Arsh, please come get me.” She checked the alarm on her phone, putting it on repeat every 1 hour. Dementia had found a way to get her, but she had found a way to get around it.