As she started to wake she did not want to open her eyes and let others know she was awake just yet. She had to get her thoughts together. She had to remember what story she would tell this time to make them believe her. She listened and very carefully op...
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Memoirs Stories
Submissions to this category are generally told in the first person and cover personal reflection, autobiographies and memories of the past.
Rather than focusing on factual accounts, memoirs are more a recollection of moments in time that were either vivid or unique to the author.
Death Death you are all around me You visit and disappear so suddenly Why do you come to me laugh and mock me Why do you surprise me and take someone new From the day we are born Each day is numbered You are a part of life This I know I made peace with yo...
The phone call mentioned here really took place Sitting here one summer night and staring at the blinds after having hung up the phone. Thinking of the call from an old friend who had a question as the conversation turned to music and concerts we saw, and...
It was not a normal day at school. I knew something had to go wrong. Everything was going way too good. Close to the 3 o'clock bell the phone rang. It was the office telling me I had basketball duty that evening. Great... Oh well, only a couple of hours....
Never Again
To the truth, I bare my soul...It's deja vu, but not at all the same. How can that be?Almost three years ago I almost lost you. You had been sick for months, so our life had been strained, I needed you more than you were capable of giving. We were soul mates, the couple everyone was en...
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Could February get any worse?
Inspired by my own true story...Yesterday was Friday 13th February. Friday the 13th; the most unlucky day. Sally Smith tried not to believe in such superstitions. Her naivety ended with a trip to the Neurologist. The numbness couldn’t be explained away or ignored any more. It had, slowl...
The house plant
A distinct memory and musing from my sister's death.It lay forgotten in a pile of scattered potting soil, the green spider leg-like leaves splayed across the cream colored carpet. It was the only thing out of place in the room, apart from her absence, the humming and puffing of one machine, and the intermi...
Meg's Story (working title)-The opening of my first novel
A true story of one hell of a life...Meg’s Story (Working title) – first part of Chapter 1 1930 “You little scamp!” I actually yelled out loud at him (if we were at home, I’d have been in trouble for that). I had to think and think fast. The river was usually like home to us but of course I...
When I was small: My mom looked out the kitchen window at the Mission Mountains. “They are so large today. The Sheep’s Head is so amazing. Pumpkin, come here.” She lifted me to the window. I saw snow. She pointed. “Do you see the Sheep’s Head?” she said....
Superior Producer
hidden beautySome two decades ago I visited the bridge of the Superior Producer, a 164 ft freighter that sailed under the flag of Panama. "Nothing special", most of you would say, "We've been aboard ships too". I guess you're right, except for the fact, that the Super...
The Last Christmas Gift
After a life fully lived with its mountains and valleys, dignity is the greatest gift of all.She awoke ecstatic to see us after rushing to the hospital from our Christmas cruise. The e-mails were candid, ‘Mom in hospital. Home can’t deal with outbursts and rudeness!’ This was inevitable after three strokes and a heart attack. Facilities for Alzhe...
Time went on. My declining Melissa's invites must have made the rounds among the dancers and there were no more attempts on their parts to lure me into their beds. I learned the business inside and out to the point that I was asked to conduct the next rou...