Write about a character with an unreliable memory.
Posted in Character on Oct 26, 2022
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✍️ 46 stories
“Tabla Rasa” by James Miller
“Welcome to your service of remembrance! I’m Kazuo, and it will be my pleasure to guide you through the process as you consider the various options extended to you by NeuroNon. Your presence here confirms the clarity of your life priorities. We believe that life is made of moments, not minutes, and capturing and retaining those moments that you want to savor is what we’re here for. With over a decade of public service a...
“The Scene of the Crime” by Amber Versailles
I open my eyes with a throbbing headache, sticky fingers, and vague images of a lifeless corpse following me from a nightmare I’ve just woken up from. There’s red all over my pillow, and as I sit up I see that it’s on my hands. The sheets roll down my torso and reveal that my shirt is covered, too. I want to massage my temples to quell the awful aching, but stay frozen in disgust looking around at what can only be blood. It’s everywhere. Is it my period? Do I need to drive myself to the hospital? I start putting the pieces together. The c...
“When Realities Collide” by Renda Brooks
"That did NOT happen." Marla said empathically, sending daggers through him with her blue eyes glaring. Her hair was swept up, held in place by combs that she had picked up during one of the many travels they had. Their bone delicacy almost matched the gray of her hair. The bird’s egg blue dress she wore did not fit her like it once did, draping in folds rather than hugging her curves. S...
“I Didn't See You Come In” by Fred Aiken
I keep note cards in my pocket. They hold my life’s secrets on them. Not really, but it sounds cool when I put it cryptically. I had an accident a few years back. At least, that’s what the first note card on my nightstand says when I wake up. I couldn’t tell you what happened exactly, because for some reason whenever I was writing these notecards, I didn’t have all the details, or at least that’s what I’m going to assume. There aren’t any note cards with my name or date of birth or place o...
“Hypnopompia ” by Abigial Scibiur
You know that feeling when you wake up in the middle of the night and don’t recognize where you are? Like when you forgot you were spending the night at your grandmother’s house. Or when you expect to wake up in your childhood bedroom, but you’ve lived by yourself in an apartment for the past two years.I know that feeling very well.The first sensation is simply waking. It must start mundane for it to be startling a second later—which it is. Then the panic starts. But just as you realize your heart is beating heavily, you tak...
“Thalassophilia” by Max Cooper
No one ever came to Aleena’s rocks. Probably due to fear. Any sailor who dared to get close would inevitably go missing. There were rumors, of course, humans loved their tall tales. They would whisper about a siren whose beauty would lure sailors to the rocky cliffside and cause them to capsize. These rumors flattered her but that's still all they were: rumors. She wasn’t even a siren, at least, she didn’t think she was....
“Wait, what was that?” by Mary Graham
I remember when I was a boy, no wait, when I was a girl, we had iceboxes instead of refrigerators. No wait, that was my mother. But anyway, I remember that the box was very cold and there was always melted ice water in the floor. Or was that my brother’s pee? He never liked to wear diapers and peed everywhere. But anyway there was a time when we didn’t have refrigerators, not a time I remember because we always had a ref...
“Remember to Forget ” by Lilac St.Madden
TRIGGER WARNING: This contains sensitive topics such as mental health issues, substance abuse, and suicide. Remember to Forget Written By: Wren St.Madden "What's your name?" The doctor asked. "Faith." "Last name?" I stared at the floor, my head tilted a bit. My black hair tangled i...
“Maggie's Musings” by Debra Koffski
Every summer starting when I was little until I was 16 our family visited my grandma Maggie. She was a stout woman who always wore a homemade bonnet. She always made one for my sister and I too...we were thrilled. She raised 8 children in rural Alabama on a coal miners pay. Added to that was a man who loved to visit the local watering hole after work. She had every reason to stay stressed, but despite a...
“Ouroboros Part Five - The Dragon” by Nova Smith
The blog woods had never looked so beautiful. With the dove gray sand cushioning Ophi’s feet and the dark connectrees shielding the clearing from the sky, Ophi stood in awe as though he had never been there before. Could it be? The Internet user cocked his head to whistling coming from a gray bush, and saw a bright pink ad-bird wading out of the bush. Ophi recognized the bird and something lit up inside him. He ...
“Simulated Donut” by T Powers
“What happened, Mabel?,” was shouted louder this time, and it reverberated through her skull like a thunderclap. Behind her eyelids, shards of light followed close behind, tiny fissures that slowly, ever so slowly, evaporated into tiny little ethereal fireflies, flitting about her peripheral vision as her eyelids painfully fluttered open.Mabel could hear the impatient, deep, huffing male, breathing above her. As the last of the swimming lights in her vision dissipated, she extricated her fingers from the tangled, golden ...
“The Stories We Carry” by Dave Bolin
Will pulled into the parking space and put the car in park. He reached to turn off the ignition, but paused, closing his eyes and letting the air from the vents wash over him for just a second longer. He exhaled slowly, settling himself. He made this visit three times a week, but it had never gotten any easier. The hard, unspoken truth of having a parent with dementia is that you have already lost them, but you can’t beg...
“Fox Got Your Tongue?” by Jasz Garrett
Percy scribbled in his notebook; his back leaned against an oak tree. He scrunched his peppered nose as he always did while in deep thought. His dark gray eyes scrutinized every detail his charcoal pencil scratched against paper. He sat on a hill perched above his creaky wooden middle school. The dead grass whipped in the wind. He focused on capturing each wave and bend of the beige high stalks. Sheltered on the rolling hill with him was a scarlet fox. Percy caught the flash of her hide through the grass below and intently gaze...
“Trying to Help” by C N Dakus
“Sweetie.” I heard her say, just barely. “Sweetie, get up, you’re going to be late!” My eyes flew open and I bolted upright in bed, tossing the covers off myself. My mother was standing in the doorway, fully dressed for the day. Wondering how I could have overslept, I looked over at my clock. “Mom.” I said softly, trying to keep my voice cool, but unintentionally filling it with ice instead. “It is 4:30 ...
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