It is an interesting issue but, I think, not as complicated as it appears on the surface.Think about if you were telling an acquaintance about something that happened to you when you were eight: how would you go about it? I might say, for example, "When I was six we moved from the brown buildings to the white ones. I suppose they had addresses but I never knew them. They were the only apartment blocks in the area and they stood out like tall ships in a small harbour. I used to play hide and seek up and down the building wıth Lucy, who lived opposite and was in my year at school, and her little brother Tamutsa who was the most annoying person I knew. One day I ran into the lift while Lucy was face-to-the-wall counting to one hundred. I jumped in and pressed the button for the eighth floor. Every instant counted: the hiding places were all too well-known and Lucy sometimes cheated, that was why she wasn't my best friend. I stood there, staring at the shut green metal doors, mentally counting down: now she'd be at ninety, now at eighty-fıve...It took me a long few seconds to realise that the lift was not moving."