This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction for January 18, 2015. Every Sunday a new picture prompt is given by Alastair Forbes, the host. The weekly challenge is to write an original story with no more than 200 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week. Be sure to click on the little blue frog in the blue box to read all the other stories.
The link for all the stories is as follows:
http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2015/01/18/sunday-photo-fiction-january-18th-2015/
Genre: Β Realistic Fiction
Word Count: Β 197 Words
MEMORIES By P.S. Joshi
Mom was holding a post card of the First Savings Bank. “Yes, it was in front of that very building twenty years ago that I first met your father.” She then sighed.
She was off on one of her memory trips again, and I was bored. She must have told that story about ten times–every month.
“Someday, Bradley,” Mom looked at me with misty eyes, “you’ll meet the one who’s meant to be yours.”
Dad was sitting, head thrown back, snoring. He was not a romantic. Not even a little. Maybe I was like him. I would never subject my kids to that garbage.
Mom was also fond of describing my birth. “You were a beautiful baby,” she said. It seemed she could see me there in front of her, all plump, kicking my little feet.
“The other woman in the hospital room with me had a baby that only weighed five pounds. You weighed eight.”
That talk took place twenty years ago. Now here I am with my daughter, holding up a picture of the local stadium.
“You know, Mary, this is the place where I met your mother fifteen years ago.” My daughter looked bored.
That really is realistic! All that we promise we’ll never do and we do it anyway. Ah, love !
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Thanks Shailaja. You’re right. It often happens that way. I’m so glad you liked the story. π — Suzanne
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That’s sweet! Of course the parent wants to share special memories with the child π
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Thanks Ali. Yes, the child doesn’t always appreciate it at the time, but understands later. I’m so glad you liked the story. I always enjoyed my dad’s stories. He was good at telling them. π — Suzanne
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I love the twist. My daughter is a mother now and I see that happening all the time. It’s hysterical.
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I know, Diana. I find myself telling memories like my Dad did. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story. π — Suzanne
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Life is a circle. Day by day we find ourselves turning into our parents. π
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Thanks Steve. That’s very true. π — Suzanne
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Time is such a funny thing. Innovative take.
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Thanks Yarnspinnerr. I agreed. Funny things happen in time. π — Suzanne
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Haha! It always goes like that. We end up more like our parents than we care to admit. Nicely done!
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Thanks Eric. Yes, one day I looked in the mirror and saw my mother. In what I say, I can sometimes hear both of them. I’m so glad you enjoyed the story. π — Suzanne
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