Flash: Fleeting Memories & Happy New Decade!


Can you believe it's a new decade? I'm kinda more impressed by that than by a new year. What could happen in my life in the next decade? The last decade wasn't at all what I expected. I thought my boys would go to high school and enjoy all it had to offer. I thought they would go on missions for our church and/or start university.

Instead, Xan became ill and lost everything dear to him—his health, his sports, his brain power, his life experiences, his friends. He is serving a mission, but a serve-from-home one, which is awesome, but not what I expected. Charlie went through serious depression and tried to commit suicide, struggled immensely with school, and joined the army—only to come home right before graduation due to health struggles.

I think I've learned my lesson that you can't expect anything from anyone or anything. In fact, heartache comes from unmet expectations. Much better to go in with an open mind, expecting nothing but...hoping for the best.

So that's my plan, my resolution if you will, for 2020 and the next decade—to limit my expectations in favor of hope. That way, maybe I'll be better equipped to deal with whatever life deals me.

What about you? What are you hoping for in 2020 and the 20's in general? (Think we ought to start wearing flapper dresses and make our own version of "the roaring 20's"?)

And...it's Wednesday! So here I am again, with a bit of #flashfiction for ya. It's amazing to me how one little prompt can create a story within me. It's such a great creative exercise—you really should join us if you're interested in strengthening your imagination and writing!


Prompt: The lake reflected the past

Word Count: 245

The cold air brought gooseflesh to my exposed skin as I hurried into the dressing gown draped over the bed and purposefully avoided the ornate standing-mirror.

I wouldn’t recognize the girl within its glass, after all.

Today was no different than yesterday, or the day before that. I woke with a mind as wide and empty as a calm sea, but for a few rafts tethered within my reach. Each day at dawning, I knew only three things:

I did not know who I was.

I was utterly alone in this world.

And I must go into the forest.

I felt no fear as I dressed, pulling calf-length boots over my bare feet. I clung to these small, familiar actions. The room had once been grand, with embroidered bed curtains and a large fire meant to burn all night. Now, only a few glowing coals remained deep within the ash.

The manor was a corpse of what was, waiting for time to take it away.

My boots crunched over frost-covered grass as I walked, then ran, into the deep, dark woods.

I knew the way, my feet leading me further into the gloom—until I fell to my knees at the shore of a small lake, its surface lit by a single beam of light filtering through the trees above.

I gazed into the murky water—into the lake that reflected the past and restored my memories, if only until sleep claimed me once more.


Want to see what other writers do with this prompt? Check out #WednesdayWords to discover other writers participating this week.