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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#140: Down Memory Lane

It’s no secret that many writers draw inspiration for their writing from real life, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. In fact, when you’re searching for things to write about, taking a memory of your own and altering it is a reliable way to get out of a bout of writer’s block.

Memory is an important concept when writing fiction, as it helps connect the past to the present — so this week, let’s take a trip down memory lane.

This week's prompts

Start your story with the narrator or a character saying “I remember…”

Angst – 102 stories

Write about a character with an unreliable memory.

Character – 46 stories

End your story with total oblivion.

Horror – 24 stories

Write a story that involves a flashback.

Fiction – 71 stories

Write a story inspired by a memory of yours.

Nonfiction – 90 stories

Stories

“Stake My Breath Away 🦇🐺” by PJ Aitken

Submitted to Contest #140

Moving one catch and then the other, Simon wrestled open the shed door as quietly as someone at 4.30am could manage. Once inside he began to move paint pots, ladders and soil out of the way so he could reach the main event. Covered in dust and dried paint, Simon felt a wave of regret knowing he should have done this years ago. With all of the items off to one side Simon grabbed one end of his late Grandad Abraham’s old chest and dragged it into the main part of the shed. Flipping the main catch on the front of the chest, Simon grabbed the du...

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“I Remember Everything” by Katherine Anderson

Submitted to Contest #140

I remember the first time we met in person, the door swinging open and him standing behind it, my heart skipping a beat. My heart skips even now, writing these words as I scan the recesses of my mind for fleeting memories of him. I remember him welcoming me inside and showing me to the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey burning a hole in my purse. I pulled out the dark, maple-flavored liquor and gave it to him as an offering, a precursor to what would happen later in the night. I remember watching him make an Old Fashioned in a clear glass, studyi...

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“Erase” by Liz King

Submitted to Contest #140

“So, are you sure this is safe?” I asked. “Of course,” The doctor responded. “We’ve had many patients like you, it’s a very simple process really. Perfectly safe.” The doctor smiled, crossing his arms and gesturing to the operation table before me. I hesitated and looked around the room at all of the other people there, observers as the doctor called them, here to watch the progress of science in action. “Then why is there a money-back guarantee?” I asked as I sat down, itching my arm as I stared at the tools before me, the sca...

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“What He Would Have Wanted” by Kate Winchester

Submitted to Contest #140

*Trigger warning: This story discusses death and dying. You knew his picture was going to be in the church, but right in front of you, you didn’t expect. In a frame by the altar, his smile said it all; a proud father, grandfather, and future great-grandfather clad in his beloved plaid, flannel shirt and posing in front of the corn stalks that he planted for his family to enjoy. Pumpkins from his garden rested at his feet, and you remember family picture day as if it were yesterday. You remember the laughter, the silliness, ...

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“The Namesake” by Bek West

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #140

I remember the station wagon. The one with the wood paneling on the sides that you used to see a lot back then in the early seventies. It was clunky, always smelled damp, and if you sat in there with shorts on you’d regret it because having three kids (four kids, I mean) means you simply can not avoid the sharp crumbs from stale crackers that get stuck in the upholstery and ultimately return to haunt the back of your thighs. We strapped Pete Jr. into a baby seat in the back and my sisters squabbled over who would get to hold him first; this ...

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“Hoodwinked” by Suma Jayachandar

Submitted to Contest #140

The only thing worse than tracing a witness five years after is to find out he has forgotten all about the crime.Or at least the bits that matter.But detective Syed was no greenhorn. He smiled at the 19-year-old who was sitting across the table devouring his second plate of chicken cafreal.“So, is the chicken tangy enough?”“Yes, detective. Thank you for buying me lunch,” Daniel D’Souza grinned, his cheeks still plump with the spicy treat tucked in.“Not at all, thanks for agreeing to meet me here,” Detective Sayed swirled the sparkling water,...

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“A Hare” by Hen Neralany

Submitted to Contest #140

C/TW: Mention of Death.~It’s peculiar, isn’t it? How some distance can make everything seem so small?For example, we have the sprawled stars that have kept men company from the very beginning.What about a hare per se?. . .They might not seem so interesting, especially in comparison to other incredible beings such as eagles, dolphins, and elephants but maybe after this story, you might have something to say. Just take a second, closer glance and tell me if you maintain the same stance. . .Our story begins in a loud, silent night where fo...

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“Gas on Palms, Bruises on Hearts” by Janey El Napier

Submitted to Contest #140

CW: apocalyptic event, mentions of family member death, discussions of death/the afterlife (plus small insinuations of homophobia), mild language. Adelola dropped the needle onto the record three minutes and forty-nine seconds before the world was due to end. Mr. Yorke’s crooning whine echoed around her. It flitted away from its place on the roof of the caravan, rolled down the fiberglass sides and the windswept grass and tumbled from the edge of the cliff. Evie had said this was a preposterously precarious place to park – we’...

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“The Quiet End of All Things (Human)” by Austin Baker

Submitted to Contest #140

I don’t think anyone guessed the end of the world would be so quiet. Given the past few years, I imagine most thought it would end with a brilliant flash of blinding light. Those that weren’t consumed by the fire or torn to shreds by the concussive force would slowly wither in the months that followed as they drank tainted water and consumed poisoned food; a gasping death for the human race, as agonizing as it is tedious. But it wouldn’t be the end of life, nor the Earth. While most might not count extremophiles as proper forms of life, I th...

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“There Go I” by Bill VanPatten

Submitted to Contest #140

She wore bitterness like it had been carved into her face by a mad sculptor. Each wrinkle, each line in her advanced crow’s feet, each gin blossom bore witness to a heart that long ago must have stopped feeling anything other than resentment. Her peppered hair was untamable in its greasy need to flop-flop with each lumbering step. An oversized t-shirt blared “Chukchansi Casino”, and faded blue jeans hugged her double-wide hips. I imagined her as a homeless person—straddling the gap somewhere between menopause and old-age dementia—pushing a s...

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“The Storm” by Jeannette Miller

Submitted to Contest #140

The last thing I remember was the loud, cracking splitting sound of the huge fir tree near the back of the house after it had been swaying fiercely and finally bending and giving way to the pressure of the 65 mph winds. I work for Lucy, a sweet 89-year-old lady whose family practically founded this small rural town and who still owns thousands of acres of land. Her house sits at the top of a rural road surrounded by large fir, maple, and spruce trees her mother planted when Lucy was a little girl. Lucy’s parents were into cattle, horses, an...

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“I Remember Caden Peitz” by Neely Ray Simmons

Submitted to Contest #140

I remember Caden Peitz. Well, how could I not? How could anyone who’s ever seen or heard of Caden Peitz not remember her? Many people know how she cheated at board games, or tutored fourth-graders. How she left class early, or was best friends with seemingly everyone. People may remember her ever-changing hair color, never a natural one, of course. She called them boring, and Caden never liked boring things. She painted ghosts and flowers and scraggly-haired teenagers. She played guitar, and skateboarded everywhere she went. I remember ...

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“Siren Song” by Tanja Riley

Submitted to Contest #140

“I would sell my soul just to make something different happen,” Eleanor said loudly to herself. She had been talking to herself more and more lately. With each new gray hair she found in the mirror, with every new wrinkly on her husband’s face, with every bang echoing in the hall when their teenage daughter slammed the door, she became more vocal. Sometimes she cried out during simple chores, like a drowning woman, the sheer mundanity of life filling up her lungs. She was getting old and had little to show f...

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“How You Remember” by Emory Paine

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #140

“I remember…”I scrub harder under the faucet, the metal sponge stinging into my palm. A black something flies into the sink. Char from an old meal? A piece of the electric stove coil?“What do you remember, Mama?”“I remember…”The television lights the person who was my Mama in changing technicolor as ads flow one into another. In the dusklight, all I can see in the frame of the door is her in that chair. She rocks, rocks, watches, and calls out a thing that hits me in my heart every few cycles.I shut the water and could hear the ad better. “…...

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“The Thing that Happened to Norman” by Sharon Hancock

Submitted to Contest #140

Warning: this piece contains sexual innuendos and gore, violence, and questionable choices. “I remember him! He was taller than an oak tree and fiercer than a lion!” “Honestly, Bobby, why are you talking like that? We’re in Atlanta in, 2022.” “Because, my dear, Susie, Norman is a legend. His story must be told with a certain flair.” “Just stick to the facts, Bobby. People want to hear the truth—plain and simple.” “No, they don’t. Nobody wants to re...

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$250

Prize money

333

Contest entries

170

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Apr 08, 2022 EST

Won by Cecilia Maddison 🏆

Title: Old Soul

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

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