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#140 Down Memory Lane

It’s no secret that many writers draw inspiration for their writing from real life, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. In fact, when you’re searching for things to write about, taking a memory of your own and altering it is a reliable way to get out of a bout of writer’s block. 


Memory is an important concept when writing fiction, as it helps connect the past to the present — so this week, let’s take a trip down memory lane.

🥇 Winner

Old Soul

Winner of Weekly Contest #140 🏆

Can you hear me? I remember being reborn a thousand times. In the between-times, and at the very start and end of a life, the memories are strong. I remember the warmth of the sun on my crumpled wings as they unfold for one brilliant bright day of flight. I relive the elation of the chase and the sinking of my teeth into the throat of my prey- what a joy it is to satisfy physical hunger. I recall the agony of being prey, because of course, all things must balance out in the end. My heart has pumped cold blood through sinuous coils and thum...

233 likes 150 comments 150
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⭐️ Shortlisted

Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

I remember my childhood in bits and pieces, like framed pictures of specific events that exist independently of all the other memories. There was the time I challenged my brother to a foot race down the steps of the rocky hill on the side of my grandfather’s house. My mother warned us to never run down the hill lest we injure ourselves. But that did not thwart us at all. We waited for her to go to work and proceeded with our plans. What else was there to do in the hot summer sun but run, hide, play, and take in all of the day’s light. There ...

91 likes 48 comments 48
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Moonjars

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

My horse Echo, idled at the hitching post with her reins looped loosely around it, as she wasn’t the kind of horse that I needed to tie down to keep near. Shotguns were pulled at high noon around these parts and her tail whipped away at pesky flies completely unbothered by the reverberations of the occasional bullet whizzing by her head. Echo was steady and ready the way a marshal’s horse should be. I’d mount the saddle on Echo’s back every nightfall and ride her through the canyon past the giggles that evaporated into the starry skies and ...

56 likes 55 comments 55
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The Namesake

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

I remember the station wagon. The one with the wood paneling on the sides that you used to see a lot back then in the early seventies. It was clunky, always smelled damp, and if you sat in there with shorts on you’d regret it because having three kids (four kids, I mean) means you simply can not avoid the sharp crumbs from stale crackers that get stuck in the upholstery and ultimately return to haunt the back of your thighs. We strapped Pete Jr. into a baby seat in the back and my sisters squabbled over who would get to hold him first; this ...

25 likes 7 comments 7
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How You Remember

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

“I remember…” I scrub harder under the faucet, the metal sponge stinging into my palm. A black something flies into the sink. Char from an old meal? A piece of the electric stove coil? “What do you remember, Mama?” “I remember…” The television lights the person who was my Mama in changing technicolor as ads flow one into another. In the dusklight, all I can see in the frame of the door is her in that chair. She rocks, rocks, watches, and calls out a thing that hits me in my heart every few cycles. I shut the water and could hear the ad bette...

20 likes 5 comments 5
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This week's prompts

Start your story with the narrator or a character saying “I remember…”

– 101 stories

Write about a character with an unreliable memory.

– 45 stories

End your story with total oblivion.

– 24 stories

Write a story that involves a flashback.

– 70 stories

Write a story inspired by a memory of yours.

– 88 stories

Stories

Old Soul

Winner of Weekly Contest #140 🏆

Can you hear me? I remember being reborn a thousand times. In the between-times, and at the very start and end of a life, the memories are strong. I remember the warmth of the sun on my crumpled wings as they unfold for one brilliant bright day of flight. I relive the elation of the chase and the sinking of my teeth into the throat of my prey- what a joy it is to satisfy physical hunger. I recall the agony of being prey, because of course, all things must balance out in the end. My heart has pumped cold blood through sinuous coils and thum...

233 likes 150 comments 150
Read story

Two Sides Of The Same Coin

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

I remember my childhood in bits and pieces, like framed pictures of specific events that exist independently of all the other memories. There was the time I challenged my brother to a foot race down the steps of the rocky hill on the side of my grandfather’s house. My mother warned us to never run down the hill lest we injure ourselves. But that did not thwart us at all. We waited for her to go to work and proceeded with our plans. What else was there to do in the hot summer sun but run, hide, play, and take in all of the day’s light. There ...

91 likes 48 comments 48
Read story

Abbott, Costello, and the Island of Cancer Sticks

Weekly Contest #140

I remember sitting in the smallest room of Wal-Mart. “Why wouldn’t he look at me?” I growled in my head. Oh well. I guessed I deserved it. I peeled the skin around my thumbnail and a dribble of blood started to pool in the corner of my finger. I had nothing to wipe it with, so I quickly wiped it on my pants. My twelve-year-old stepbrother Will had barely made a sound since we got there. He just looked down at the table with his hand overlapping his face and tiny brown curls. My Mom had left me with my Dad months earlier, now I was probably...

59 likes 8 comments 8
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Moonjars

Shortlisted for Weekly Contest #140 ⭐️

My horse Echo, idled at the hitching post with her reins looped loosely around it, as she wasn’t the kind of horse that I needed to tie down to keep near. Shotguns were pulled at high noon around these parts and her tail whipped away at pesky flies completely unbothered by the reverberations of the occasional bullet whizzing by her head. Echo was steady and ready the way a marshal’s horse should be. I’d mount the saddle on Echo’s back every nightfall and ride her through the canyon past the giggles that evaporated into the starry skies and ...

56 likes 55 comments 55
Read story

Flotsam & Jetsam & Lagan & Derelict & The Pets

Weekly Contest #140

I remember his death as if it had occurred only yesterday. Everything pretty much changed in my life the day after my dog killed himself. Months before it happened, and the warning signs were clearly visible, we could see he was not his old tail wagging, tongue lolling, happy-go-lucky self. He was so unhappy. So what did we do? All we did was say things like “Good dog! Good dog! Who’s a good dog?” to him and completely ignored, or just really didn’t want to see, all the obvious symptoms that accompany extreme canine depression. Then one day...

50 likes 28 comments 28
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The Hijacking of Instagram KBJR0719

Weekly Contest #140

When the Bitcoin pirates abducted my Instagram, I was watching a movie on whales. Something about how whales are worse than sharks. A documentary. I found it to be unreliable. A shark is a shark. This must be the work of the shark lobbyists, I thought. As I was creating oceanic conspiracies in my mind, I received a text message from a friend-- “Hey, I think your Instagram got hacked. Also, you still need to Venmo me for that thing with the hot air balloon.” I’ll tell you about the hot air balloon some other time. When I went to check on...

46 likes 36 comments 36
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A Wrinkled Heart in Leather

Weekly Contest #140

I remember thinking, Am I being mugged by someone’s great-great-grandmother? She was ancient. Her hands looked so brittle and frail, but they hooked me with the weight of an anchor. I stumbled to catch myself, terrified that I might crash-land and crush this geriatric street pirate. I said, “Whoaaaaaa there, little lady!” like some cartoon cowboy trying to calm a wild horse. “Whoa-ho! Ho! Ho-o-o-o!” Twenty people went by. Some on foot, others in cars. They gawked or laughed or accused me— “Hey, leave that old woman alone, creep!” —and then t...

39 likes 36 comments 36
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For Pete's Sake

Weekly Contest #140

I’ll never forget the day I realized my dad was going to die. Young boys know nothing of mortality, certainly not when it comes to their fathers. To most sons, dads are giants among men, strong and fearless. It’s why we rely on them to fight our playground proxy wars. “My dad can beat up your dad!” is often the last salvo of scared boys who don't want to fight—but act as if they do. I had often made the proclamation because if my dad were indestructible then maybe I was too. Most of the life lessons my dad taught were obvious only in hinds...

38 likes 15 comments 15
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Egg Casserole for Christmas

Weekly Contest #140

“This was one of the best Christmases I’ve ever had,” Hope said, leaning down to give her mother, Alice, a kiss on her furrowed cheek. Clara smiled and held up her glass of fizzy citrus to cheers her sister. “Merry Christmas,” Clara said as she swallowed a mouthful of her mimosa, spilling a dribble on her fleece, snowflake patterned pajamas. “This was second to the Christmas when we got that amazing Barbie dream house.” “I want a Barbie dream house, Mommy,” Clara’s daughter, Meg, said as she took a bite of Alice’s famous breakfast casserol...

36 likes 23 comments 23
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My Dear Doctor Mortem

Weekly Contest #140

“in vita et in mortem… in life as in death” My Dear Doctor Mortem, I am writing to you on behalf of one of my most difficult cases. I thought perhaps you could help me. Yes, I realize this is highly irregular, given the nature of our individual practices, but I find myself at a loss. My patient is one Leanna Richards, and before you start, I assure you that she is much too young to have earned a file in your cabinet just yet. Then again, so was Henry. I believe he came to you as a result of the plague. You’ve gotten a good deal of busin...

34 likes 14 comments 14
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Oblivion

Weekly Contest #140

TOTAL OBLIVION Tommy’s face, hovering over me, blocking out a beautiful blue summer sky, disrupts the serenity of the morning. Tommy is the newspaper delivery boy from across the street. “Mrs. Ferns! Mrs. Ferns!” he cries frantically. “Are you alright?” He leans over me; a deep frown furrowing his young brow. “Yes, Tommy, of course I’m alright. I’m just resting,” I respond. “Um, you’re resting out here on the ground?” he asks, in a perplexed tone. I clutch a handful of dirt from underneath me and realize I am lying on the soft, muddy g...

32 likes 6 comments 6
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Moses and the Sparrows

Weekly Contest #140

I remember when we were young, we would sneak up to your attic to watch the fields turn to gold. Do you remember that, Marian? The ladder was spiky with splinters, and we had to be careful of our hands. When we got up there, in between inhaling clouds of dust, we would unlatch the window and look out at the setting sun. You could see the end of the world from your attic window, Marian. We were like two little sparrows looking out from the eaves, me and you. Do you remember, when we were young, Marian? We would run down to the bakery and pic...

32 likes 11 comments 11
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Poor Unfortunate Souls

Weekly Contest #140

I remember other things about that year too. That was the year I stopped getting an allowance. The year I turned ten and my mother signed me up for Girl Scouts to teach me a lesson. It was the year I had my first kiss. But that's never what people want to talk about. Whenever one of us mentions that year, 1990, twenty-five years ago, we're really talking about Freddie. *** Kayla's tenth birthday party came during the middle of May, a day so hot you could taste the promise of the upcoming summer vacation. The Louisiana air was heavy with th...

32 likes 36 comments 36
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One Missed Call

Weekly Contest #140

Will ran for his cellphone and bailed when he hit the smooth spot of floor outside his bedroom. Time had worn it to the bone and his socks had long lost their grip, but luckily his body took the brunt of the fall so at least his security deposit was still safe. He missed the phone call though. He hurt, and spent a couple moments just lying on the ground whimpering. The muted swears of his downstairs neighbour thumped through the floor. No doubt something along the lines of “noise complaint!” or “calling the super!” or “questionable observat...

31 likes 24 comments 24
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I Remember Everything

Weekly Contest #140

I remember the first time we met in person, the door swinging open and him standing behind it, my heart skipping a beat. My heart skips even now, writing these words as I scan the recesses of my mind for fleeting memories of him. I remember him welcoming me inside and showing me to the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey burning a hole in my purse. I pulled out the dark, maple-flavored liquor and gave it to him as an offering, a precursor to what would happen later in the night. I remember watching him make an Old Fashioned in a clear glass, studyi...

30 likes 7 comments 7
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