When I was 16 and the holidays were just beginning, something without comparison happened to me. MY FIRST LOVE. This love was so great, for I had never experienced anything comparable before. It was unique and existed just for its own sake. I wanted to find out what remained and suddenly there he stood in front of me. The old city pool, where he first kissed me, has been turned into a water park with slides and whirlpools. What used to be youth centers are now shopping centers; the green fields are now home to drug stores, junk stores and gas stations. How difficult is it to find one’s memories in such places. Is the past traceable at all?