Frame your story as an adult recalling the events of their childhood.

Posted in Adults on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 244 stories

“Hot cup of coffee!” by La Reine Margot

Submitted to Contest #102

Hot cup of coffee When I was young, my mother worked all the time in the hospital as a doctor and I spent most of my time with my grandmother. My grandmother had a small but very cozy apartment and I was particularly fascinated by the wallpaper covering all the walls in all the rooms; on which there were drawings of families outings in nature with the pets running here and there. The families had lunch and snacks with a cup of hot tea or coffee. I would contemplate on these drawings for long periods of time and let...

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“Warm Brown Hand” by Amy Hinerman

Submitted to Contest #102

Warm Brown Hand by Amy Hughes Hinerman While searching through a box from the attic, I discovered my old diary. I must have been about 10 when I used it. I knew the key to open it was nowhere to be found, and lacking patience, I took some scissors to the latch. It opened. Each day was assigned to a small space with five lines to fill. I glanced at statements like “Mom and Dad are so weird!” or, “Cindy is so mean!” (whoever Cindy was.) There were several days where I wrote about not having...

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“Blu and the AlleyWay” by Sandra Wright

Submitted to Contest #102

Whew! It's hot out here! Hotter than a fish fried in country grease! Why in the world am I sounding like my Mama and Big Mama? We used to say we wouldn't say all that stupid S.ugar h.oney I.ced T.ea stuff if you know what I mean. I' m standing here looking in the alley way and I remember when Mama told us if we go in that alley she would kill us like a dead doorknob...here I go again! It's so hot out here and I am reminiscing about some stupid alley way. There are apartments back there, but I have never been back there. The apartments were...

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“Finding You” by Kenley Ellis

Submitted to Contest #102

Love is a strange premonition. Love is like religion, I think. It hops from person to person, changing every time. Some people can say “I love you” after two months and some people choke trying to say it to their kids. People always like the idea of love. But the thing is, the truth that they don’t want to accept - the real thing only works for a select few. You wish for love, like everyone else. But what can you say? You haven’t found love. Not in scarlet-stamped letters, not in silver teardrops at the train station. Not under black um...

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“Finding White Rabbit” by Kaori .

Submitted to Contest #102

Once upon a time, there was once a girl named Alice who lived in Wonderland. But along came the Red queen and destroyed the time-space. Making everything seemed faster and faster till all the people of wonderland had to learn how to catch up, or they will die.This includes Alice as well. She skipped the tea parties and brought her own keys, she baked her own cakes and created her own potions. All so she could survive this dreadful place. Or so that’s how the story goes anyway, for me.Hi, I’m Alice, and I’m looking for the ‘white rabbit.’ Wha...

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“Childhood Home” by Nathalie Menard

Submitted to Contest #102

During the third session, Jackie, my therapist, suggested that I turn my diary into a manuscript. It took three more sessions to convince me. I hadn’t received any training in writing, apart from my class in Quebec literature, that I took in college over thirty years ago. I deemed the task daunting.I searched the internet for workshops and contests, hoping to find something that could help me. I came across a publishing house that offered ten autobiographical writing workshops online, one per week, for $125.In the fifth workshop, the instruc...

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“Days Well Spent” by Miruthulla Vaani

Submitted to Contest #102

" Days Spent Well " Memories of childhood were the dreams that stayed with you after you woke . When I cast back to an event from my past , what needs to be explained more than the prettiest pictures ? Little moments creates big memories. Time runs too fast the place where I was born has become an food stall right now. Though I don’t remember most of them , I will try my best . Happiness in school life was cleaning the table with friend’s bag .We were a gang of 6 during the school days and all the 6 were of different types . We...

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“What would the neighbors think” by Angie Maguire

Submitted to Contest #102

Growing up in small town Arkansas, I ran those streets. My parents didn't pay attention, or care where I went or what I did. Momma was too busy socializing over at the neighbors As long as I kept my doings quiet and stayed out of the town gossip, I was pretty much free to do as I pleased. Like any self-righteous teenage girl, I had my habits. I'd go down to the stores on the main strip figure out just how to get what I wanted. How I went about that just depending on what kind of day I was having. There was a lot of don't ask don't tell. Esp...

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“Handstands and Mystery Cans” by Summer Brooke

Submitted to Contest #102

"Higher! Higher!" Norah squealed with delight as her cousin pushed her toward the sunlight trickling through the clouds.Andrew and I reclined next to his stone fire pit, enjoying the fresh air and the sound of tiny giggles. "Thanks for coming down here, sis. I know a four-hour drive isn't easy with two kids.""It wasn't too bad, actually. The baby slept most of the way. Our SUV came preset with soothing sounds– knocks him right out.""That's good."I chuckled. "Yeah. Could've been way worse. Could've shoved four kids in the back of a beat-up se...

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“Cupboard” by Sharmila Shankarkumar

Submitted to Contest #102

Before I got second Mummy and second Daddy, I remember how first Mummy used to lock me in the cupboard. The first time it happened it was late at night, maybe nine or ten pm. I was playing with my two plastic dolls, Melissa and Sweetum. Somebody must have given them to us from abroad because they were both white-girl dolls, Melissa with long blond hair and Sweetum with short, curly-blond hair. Blond must have been the in color then. As perhaps it still is now. I don’t remember asking why the dolls had hair the color of sunshine, wh...

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“Childhood Fantasies” by Don Boye

Submitted to Contest #102

When I was younger, I lived all alone with my mum in the rustic lands of Bridgetown. Her face was always the same from when I can remember, her cheeks coloured by the twin dabs of powder she applied on both sides, her hair stained with the glossy mixture she smeared upon it that smelled so much like the strawberry I loved.Strawberry was extremely scarce, so, it often disturbed me as to why one would rub such expensive condiment on the hair only to have it washed away, wasted like it meant nothing to them. It disturbed me so mu...

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“Zoe” by Jared Hammer

Submitted to Contest #102

There are very few things I remember about childhood. The taste of mac' n' cheese with hotdog slices, summers at the community pool. And Zoe. Zoe was my next-door neighbor. Her family moved into the neighborhood at the beginning of our fifth-grade year. She was tall for her age—almost five feet—had a pet iguana named “Ziggy”, and always wore the same pair of sandals that were designed to look like a couple of sharks eating her feet. But the most interesting thing about her is a certain ability that I still can’t explain to this day. ...

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“The Willow Tree Kiss” by Sarai And Skylar World

Submitted to Contest #102

Hi, I’m Anna Daniels and my childhood was all sunshine and rainbows. With my best friend, Jonathan Tylers. Jonathan was kind, sweet, smart, prudent, and quiet. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and we’ve always played outside together. He was my only best friend. The one that understood my personality. The one that understood my toughness. The one that understood me overall. Being 26 and being married is great and all, but I think that my story needs a better conclusion, I miss Jonathan. I haven’t heard from him since he moved away b...

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“Memorial Day Memories” by Sally Wirth

Submitted to Contest #102

Memorial Day Memories by Sally Wirth My mother’s funeral had been a couple weeks ago and as the end of the month neared, I could no longer put off cleaning out her apartment. My parent’s bedroom had always been off limits to my brother and myself and when she left the family house after my dad died, we moved the boxes she had packed without peeking and without any questions. So I had put off the task, not wanting to be caught going through her things and hear her tsk and cal...

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“My Hill” by Joe Swanson

Submitted to Contest #102

It was surprise. My parents thinking back on that time, were struggling financially. My father’s construction job left holes in our stability; weather and economic circumstances drove the need for his ingenuity. My mother worked fashioning furs taken from the captive exploitation of animals kept for their resource, regardless of their compliance. The bicycle had been a dream I kept under my bed, as to let it out could only mean disappointment. That day changed my pessimistic realities of reality, into the supposition that...

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Frame your story as an adult recalling the events of their childhood.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 244 stories

“Hot cup of coffee!” by La Reine Margot

“Warm Brown Hand” by Amy Hinerman

“Blu and the AlleyWay” by Sandra Wright

“Finding You” by Kenley Ellis

“Finding White Rabbit” by Kaori .

“Childhood Home” by Nathalie Menard

“Days Well Spent” by Miruthulla Vaani

“What would the neighbors think” by Angie Maguire

“Handstands and Mystery Cans” by Summer Brooke

“Cupboard” by Sharmila Shankarkumar

“Childhood Fantasies” by Don Boye

“Zoe” by Jared Hammer

“The Willow Tree Kiss” by Sarai And Skylar World

“Memorial Day Memories” by Sally Wirth

“My Hill” by Joe Swanson

🌟 Similar prompts

Start your story with a metaphor about human nature.

Write about a character with an unassailable moral compass.

Write a story about someone losing faith in an institution.

Write about a mysterious figure in one’s neighborhood.

Contest #102

Enter our weekly contest!

$50

Prize money

712

Contest entries

0

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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