Thousands of free stories. Support your favorites when you're ready.
Showing stories tagged with #memory Clear filter
Chapter five. Both of us soldiered on and tried to lift each others spirits, we played some of our favourite childhood tracks on the gramophone.
(the final chapter) I watch my children playing on the beach. Danny is our first born. He is ten years old now. Sandy hair and the most piercing blue eyes, just like his namesake.
Chapter four. "Where are we supposed to start?" I looked around at the amount of stuff that had to be sorted through and felt a sinking feeling.
Only in the black of night do I see. Behind closed lids, the script of a life once known plays out. Familiar faces are frozen in time. One face prevails in the blackness. The last I saw.
It was nearly one hundred years ago - almost ancient history to some. So what is it about the twentieth century that makes it hold so much allure. Perhaps it's the music.
Remember when we were thirteen and afraid, spending days curious of the way our minds ticked, nervous kissing in movie theatres and early curfews before the danger in darkness had yet to swallow us...
Fumbling for his pipe in his small, cramped cabinet drawer, his fingers stumbled upon a treasure. He traced his thumb along the spine of this metal object and, pinching it, pulled it from the...
And yet as I was feeling it, as my blood flowed fast and my brain worked overtime I felt sad, sad because I have felt like this before, I have felt euphorically happy in the past; when I was in love...
Well this 1 came out pretty quickly today. Enjoy.
There's a note underneath your front door, that I wrote 20 years ago. Yellow paper and a faded picture, and a secret, in an envelope. There's no reasons, no excuses, no second hand alibis.
Nothing more then strangers. Passing in the street. A fleeting memory passing by. Trying to remember if we ever did met. The outside looks the same,. The features imprinted in your mind.
...long. To long for something you sometimes don't even know. And if you do know, to miss is to endure an endless series of punctures to the heart.
I wish you could have been there for the sun & the rain & the long, hard hills. For the sound of a thousand conversations scattered along the road.
I sat aboard the Number 29, With my little brother’s hand in mine.
If incidents in ones life are responsible to bring out the writer in them, I a self-proclaimed writer is about to narrate a story which probably would be my very first and last attempt.
People say it would be a great thing that you can go with the one you love to watch Titanic in the cinema if you didn't have a chance to do so 15 years ago.
I am fortunate to not have lost a great deal of people dear to me in my life so far. However a friend of my wife's died several years ago, too young by far.
This is it. The last time. Will I be able to do it. My body was getting weak too fast. It was only one in the morning when I got up from bed, and dialled Drew's number from my cellphone.
Read my mind, this is a confession of a king. I can't stay in the world that we live in, especially in this day and age. I think I'm losing touch, but this is your life.
I'm sitting in my bedroom, asking questions, "Hey, have you seen me lately, because you really don't know.
You like someone. But you wanna forget them. "ok,it will be easy". It is not because, you have already made them a great part in your life.
I miss the feeling of love... I miss the feeling of coziness in my heart......... I miss the feeling of my heart beating fast when ever she is around.......
The day we fought. Was the night. you died. I should have. been there. By your side. But by the grace. Of fortunate luck. I was spared while. You were struck. Chrome and glass. Concrete and stone.
In childhood we live under the brightness of immortality - heaven is as near and actual as the seaside.