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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

Write about a character with an unreliable memory.

Posted in Character on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 46 stories

“Ted” by Cathleen Callahan

Submitted to Contest #140

Cathleen McNamara Callahan  bcallah@optonline.net  631-804-2348 Prompt: Someone with An Unreliable Memory Ted Ted had half-lost his once brilliant memory when we first met. His daughter Ann, who I knew from local tennis, had told me she was putting her dad in an assisted living home. He had been diagnosed with dementia.   Upset at having just started a new job that didn’t give her flexible hours, Ann wasn’t sure how she was going to juggle everything.  “I’d be happy to visit your dad once a week...

2 comments 2
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“The Manacrypts Memory” by Brian Stanton

Submitted to Contest #140

A Manacrypt’s Memory His storm clouds gathered overhead, becoming darker every hour, but it didn’t rain. They would be stronger this time, they needed to be. He wouldn’t waste a drop. “I don’t understand the beads,” The boy said, “why do you have so many of them?” Vyncis pretended not to notice the boy’s staring. He was used to it by now, and none of the caravanners he traveled with, not even the adults, were used to seeing manacrypts. Wizards, sure, but not manacrypts.  “They’re crypsis stones.” He said.  “Uh huh,” The boy cocked ...

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“Lost in Love” by Jackie Palm

Submitted to Contest #140

“Sarah, what did I tell you about coming in so late? It’s after 10! Your mother and I get so worried about you!” he wrung his hands together anxiously, eyes darting around the room. Something wasn’t quite right.“Grandad, it’s Hannah,” she placed her hand gently on top of his. Sometimes, if you provided a gentle touch before he became too agitated, it would seem to anchor him back in the present time and place. But there was only ever a small window of time to accomplish this that seemed to be getting even smaller the more it progressed.Tom w...

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“Sugar Pot” by Sama Bakht

Submitted to Contest #140

No. It's not them. Better move away now. You don’t want to be standing there too long, peering through the netting of the window, and have that nosey old Mrs Chip just happen to come up. Mrs Chip. Dippy Chippy. That’s who she is. Peeping tom, she’ll call you. She’ll tell you how they won't come, the miserable old bat. Just because her own children and grandchildren have abandoned her. Who could like the misery guts of an old windbag? No, no, don’t call her that, you know better, God-fearing woman that you are. But you still don’t want her to...

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“Tales from the Vatican Archives: File M5:1-5” by Ives Beckley

Submitted to Contest #140

From the Vatican Archives: File M5:1-5 Posted from The Convent of Las Hermanitas de los Mansos, Sanitorium - Manta, Ecuador From Christian Drewitt November 17, 2010 Dearest Lyra, Where to start? It’s been a year or more since I last wrote, my love, and I hope that this letter will explain everything. I’ve included everything into a file, they gave me everything, everything.  Now, it is clear to me that the things that have transpired have happened for a purpose by God, Himself. The good sisters of this convent where I have awoken ha...

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“Homemade Marmelade” by Anoella Lowin

Submitted to Contest #140

When somebody knocks on my bedroom door, I wake up but I don't open my eyes. Not yet. I can sense that it is day, there are flashes of light in front of my closed eyelids, and I can hear the birds chirping outside. I always leave my window ajar during the night and I never close the curtains. I want to know what is going on outside. Someone told me just recently that I should better close it because it's cold in November and my lungs wouldn't welcome the icy breeze coming in while I'm asleep. Who was that again? I can't remember. Maybe it wa...

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“A Slippery Slope” by Donna Smith

Submitted to Contest #140

A Slippery Slope Note: This story contains triggers about dementia that may be upsetting to some. Dementia is the cruelest of thieves. It slips in, unnoticed, stealing small memories at first, ones you might have just misplaced, leaving you with the belief that you need to pay a little more attention to details. Then in an effort to pay better attention to details, you find that you are obsessing over whether you have forgotten something and you start repeating yourself more often than before. It is at this point that you realize that yo...

5 comments 5
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“Piper: A Comedic Tragedy” by Minehel Fable

Submitted to Contest #140

 [ Spring] “I remember..” my grandmother’s pencil-thin brows condescendingly rose with a tilt of her pointy nose to the ceiling, staring me down. “Oh, mother. Leave her alone! ” My mother shooed the air as she placed a plate of sliced black beans with a side of fresh honey in the center of the table. Smaller dishes of sweet & savory treats like moss salad dressed with sap and slivers of rice or my favorite; salted pumpkin seed soup. “Well! The past isn’t all that life is about, Gramma! ” I said enthusiastically but also gave her a...

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“Unreliable Memories” by Lori Hale

Submitted to Contest #140

Memory used to be my “superpower.” I could close my eyes and rattle off any facts or trivia I had learned at any point in my life, almost always as though I was reading straight from the source I had gained said knowledge from. I would astound my parents’ church acquaintances with my ability to accurately quote scripture from any holy book, needing only to know the general topic before spieling off with the exact chapter and verse they were looking for. And I aced every standardized test the teachers could set in front of me; especially help...

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“Or did I just imagine it?” by Sara Stan

Submitted to Contest #140

The door made a squeaking noise and the officer’s head popped from outside,his uniform touching lightly the handle and making the keys dangle loudly at his side.I quickly tucked my head in,adopting the if-i-can’t-see-you-you-can’t-see-me approach.I was redly ashamed that I was here in the first place and couldn’t bring myself to look the man in the eyes. “You’re not in trouble.”I could hear the smile in his hoarse voice so I raised my head,still I looked intently at something above his head,which was quite high since he was one of the talles...

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“Prompt; Down Memory Lane” by David Mac Mahon

Submitted to Contest #140

It’s Friday and I have that Friday feeling! I just got the email from Reedsy with this week’s prompts. Wow, I can’t believe it. The prompts this week are brilliant, not even that. I already have a great story which I’ve never used, and it is just perfect for this week’s prompts. What are the chances of that?   Now, where have I got that great story saved? I wrote it a while ago, maybe a couple of months ago. It’s a sure winner this week. It will probably get a couple of hundred likes, or a couple of thousand even. And the prize mon...

2 comments 2
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“The Art of Remembering ” by Chrissy Marshall

Submitted to Contest #140

The Art of Remembering Inside of a red brick building, is Covenant Village, an assisted living home. On the second floor, down the red carpet hall with a plant that almost looks real is the home of two significant people.     Behind the door of 1508 is a welcoming sight. The dining table, though brown is soft and cool to the touch. The tablecloth is a silky white, with lace surrounding all four corners. Two tall, light blue candles sit in the center. The yellow and orange flame glows on the fresh wicks, creating a sense of ho...

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“I Remember” by Pamela R Winnick

Submitted to Contest #140

Pamela R. Winnick Pamelarwinnick@Yahoo.com 412-901-1631 I Remember I remember looking at that woman in the bathroom mirror, that familiar-looking old woman with folds of flesh rolling down her neck, gray hair so thin I could see her scalp, and a  half- moon  of blue and black around one eye. As I stepped closer, I noticed that her lips were swollen and crisscrossed with a rivulet of blood.   How had this happened? Had I fallen yet again?  I could remember the last time. I'd missed a step and tumbled d...

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“When She Remembers ” by Danielle Roach

Submitted to Contest #140

*This story includes some mild language Helaine  I am asleep, and it is peaceful. The peaceful sort that makes me feel heavy when I wake, and I have a hard time pushing it away. Had it not been for the unspeakable way in which I was forced to waken, I would have stayed there, in my slumber, for some time.   But it is not so.  Intruders are here.  They are loud and they are frightening. They bang on my door and demand it be opened. They call me by name and that agitates me greatly, for I do not recognize their voice...

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“Stuck In Time” by Laura Huffman

Submitted to Contest #140

      I’m still living in my own house, but it’s a daily struggle. I remember things that happened many years ago, but I can’t recall what I did yesterday, this morning, or an hour ago. Sometimes I know I have dementia, but other times I just don’t recall what the hell’s wrong with me. I can’t remember what I consumed for breakfast today, but I sure know what I ate when I was growing up on a farm. Fresh eggs were my favorite. My mother was a stay-at-home mom with four kids. She was ...

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Contest #140

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