The Fog of Memory

Memory is a funny thing. Different aspects of our life will bring flashes to our mind as we slowly process everything we see and hear. Sometimes we encounter things that we may never explain…

Wait… what? Am I crazy or is it Wednesday. You know what that means, right? Yep, it is time for another Indies Unlimited flash fiction challenge. They give us prompts (pictures and words) and it’s up to us to write stories to delight and amaze. There’s just one restriction, the story can be no more than 250 words (they’re kinda sticklers about that).

The Fog of Memory

The Fog of Memory

Photo by K.S. Brooks

I had hunted up here before, but in the cloak of mist I had lost my bearings.

After a while, the quiet became unnerving. I quickened my pace, hoping to come across a familiar landmark or perhaps even a logging road.

I saw the looming shadow of a structure ahead and called out. No answer came, but I proceeded forward, hoping someone might be there to help me find my way. I stopped short when I saw the barn. I knew where I was now, yet it was impossible. That barn burned down thirty years ago…

 

I couldn’t contain myself, I had to check out the barn that shouldn’t be. I slung my shotgun over my shoulder and walked along the dirt road. Dirt road! This was the ol’ 42 turnpike, had to be. They paved it about 10 years ago. My gram used to own this land.

We lost gram in the barn fire, sold the place soon after. Mom couldn’t bear the thought of coming out here without her mom.

I kinda remember the day it burned down. Talk about déjà vu, was a day just like this. I remember now I was playing just past the barn looking for trouble like I always did. Heck, I was all of five at the time.

Wait, that kid over there, just past the barn, it can’t be. Where the heck was I going? The kid took off like a shot. Something must have spooked him.

Poor kid, tripped over a gas can Gramps left out after filling the mower. Gramps had never been good at putting stuff away. Gram was always on his case for that. The old man flicked his cigarette butt to the ground as he passed by on the riding lawn mower.

The fire ate its way across the dirt and devoured the barn. I remember it now. I saw that strange man come down the road carrying the gun. I was afraid he was going to shoot my gram and momma. There was nothing I could do.

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This whole Indies Unlimited story prompt thing has an added component. If you visit their site and give my story a little vote love I will visit you in your dreams with butterfly kisses (did I just say that? really? What the heck is wrong with me?)
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