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

Posted in Dramatic on Jan 10, 2025

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✍️ 164 stories

“Her” by Dan G.

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember her, the first time I laid eyes on her. She knocked at the wooden door. I knew it wasn’t an adult knocking, I just know these things. The sound was light, timid, and just a bit too low on the door to belong to someone grown.I walked across my living room, the floorboards creaking under my weight, and unlocked the door. As I pulled it open, the hinges groaned softly, and there she was, standing on my porch, waiting for me.She came to me, and I knew it was her. I knew right away she was the one I’d been waiting for. I felt it. It’s ...

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“Red Moon” by Cindy Calder

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember another time, another place, another world. Now, it's all different, and it grows more difficult each day to remember what this world once was like. The days drift lazily, time ticking in a monotonous, slow rhythm. I am so weary.The wind whips all about my small abode, awakening me with a force borne of nature’s impending wrath. The brightness of the new day is shielded only by dark curtains hanging in my solitary, tiny window. It begins to spread across the room as I reluctantly rise from my bed to smother the bit of warmth remai...

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“The First Time I Died” by Reilly Stuber

Submitted to Contest #285

DISCLAIMER: This story contains sensitive topics like suicide, mental health, romantic language, and vague nudity. Please enjoy and read with that in mind! Thank you. Living again is an experience I got used to a lot quicker than I would ever imagine. Opening eyelids after being permanently shut is a ride one should be delighted to take: life, again. Like removing a veil of plastic from your head, it's awakening again that is truly suffocating. It took me roughly four lives—which is hard for me to understand, but is a lot of time. I see...

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“A Small Piece of Altadena” by Sophie Goldstein

Submitted to Contest #285

Altadena, California. A small city in Los Angeles county. It was 20 minutes from downtown Los Angeles, but felt like a little world moving in its own time. Black people escaping Jim Crow laws had settled there. Japanese Americans escaping internment camps had settled there. People from Mexico escaping economic strife had settled there. Its businesses were family owned. Very few chains existed there. It had its own hardware store and small markets and dairy and restaurants where the chef knew everyone’s name.2536 Silver St sat next to the Gab...

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“Standing Here Without You” by Makayla A

Submitted to Contest #285

Standing Here Without You The pain in my heart still feels like a thorn. It pierces in deeper as I think of him. A moment longer and my heart would bleed out, I don’t want it to. I’ve been numb these past couple of weeks and I want it to stay there. I don’t want any days without you by my side. I say you as we’re actually talking, yet it brings a shadow over me. It’s almost like a lie I tell myself every day or maybe I’ve just been forgotten. Thanksgiving was unbearable, I didn’t know how long I had you. Everyone moved on, our friends and fa...

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“The 4 leaf clover club” by M.R. Simon

Submitted to Contest #285

This is how I remember the story as I read it in the local newspaper. I was twelve at the time and wished it had happen to me and my friends. My mother kept the article on our fridge’s door for a while because she always says that nothing ever happens in this town. The sky is darkening by the minutes, they have to shout to hear themselves as the wind is picking up. “You sure it’s in there?” shout Sarah to her best friends. “I don’t know, but we have to find out!”says Matt looking at the two other friends standing over their bicycle in front ...

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“Black 47” by Abbey Ryan

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember the sound of the earth. Not the soft, rich soil beneath my feet, but the dry, crumbly stuff no longer yielding the promise of harvest. It wasn’t the sound of dirt that gave life anymore. It was the sound of a grave being dug.The year was 1847, the worst of it. We had been waiting for the famine to pass for two long years, hoping the bad spell would eventually lift. But it never did. The blight had come for the potatoes, turning them to rot, and it wanted every last one of them.My name is Aisling, and I’m a daughter of the land. My...

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“Ol' Jim” by Oliver Gray

Submitted to Contest #285

(Content Warning: Death)Ol’ JimI still remember the very first time I met Ol’ Jim Keeley. Remember it like it was yesterday. That’s cliché, I know. But being cliché doesn’t make it any less true. Ol’ Jim Keeley. Ol’ Jim. That’s what I called him. It’s what everybody called him. Hell, it’s how we were introduced. &nb...

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“Grubs” by Ralph Aldrich

Submitted to Contest #285

A small gathering of people quietlysit, staring into a cracking fire they built inside the remains of a convenience store. Having only recently come together, they are all strangers each person has losty all of their memories. They are timid and leery of each other but feels safer in a group than alone. The world is a strange and scary place, especially at night.A man sits hunched over on the check-out counter, his long, lanky hair covering his face. Like everyone else, his clothes are filthy and raggedy. He calls hi...

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“THE OLD MAN AND THE RIVER ” by Maria Barrett

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember the summer I turned twelve, the summer that changed me forever. It was the summer I met Old Man Jenkins, the summer I learned to love the river, and the summer I discovered the secrets it held. Our town was small, nestled between two great oak trees and the winding river that gave us life. Everyone knew everyone, and we all looked out for one another. But there was one person who kept to himself, one person who was a mystery to us all: Old Man Jenkins. He lived in a small cabin on the outskirts of town, near the river's edge. Some...

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“The Residue of Home” by Arora Gleans

Submitted to Contest #285

The darkness held its usual silence with the sudden escapes of noise from motorbikes zooming down the highway to children cackling down the streets past curfew. Once the momentary roars of the night faded away, Rue could savour the beautiful silence again. The night always held a certain tranquility that left her heart full, but today the navy sky brought nothing but heartwrenching quietude as Rue Casey craned her neck to see the uncrumpled sheets by her side. From now on, her crinkled fingers and sagging cheeks would never feel ...

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“Not Quite The Grapes of Wrath!” by Calvin Kirby

Submitted to Contest #285

(Semi-autobiographical with some liberties taken to fill in blanks and name changes) I remember my dad telling me his stories of moving to California during the 1930's seeking the American dream. He told me these stories after we watched the 1940 movie "The Grapes of Wrath." Since my dad is gone now, I am trying to relate what he told me. John Steinbeck's character, Tom Joad, while somewhat like my dad, was a much more tragic figure. The great novel "The Grapes of Wrath" always touched my heart, because of ...

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“Turniptown” by Michael Jefferson

Submitted to Contest #285

Captain Garrick Lassiter takes a few deep breaths as the tank skims past a row of cherry blossom trees. Carson Steele pops out of the hatch, standing alongside his commanding officer. “Allergies?” he asks. “Just taking in the last of the clean, fresh air. I hear it’ll get pretty foul once we cross the border.” “It’s something more than that, Captain. You look troubled.” “I’ve got a feeling of Déjà vu. I remember passing these trees…I remember their smell, like vanilla…” A glint of recognition crosses Carson’s features. “They’re pretty common...

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“Fireworks come to Tonga” by KC Foster

Submitted to Contest #285

It was December 31st, 1999, the night of the New Millennium. I was thirteen and living in Tonga with my parents, Kiwi expats brought from New Zealand to run Taulua Press. The press was a joint venture between the Wesleyan and Catholic churches. To ensure fairness, they set out to hire an impartial third party. The first manager was an atheist and my father, the second, was a Baptist.When we first arrived in Tonga, it was like stepping through a portal into an alien world. The air was so hot that it was hard to breathe and the mosquitos were ...

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“The Dawn.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #285

“Yeah, this is Professor Mullins. Frank Mullins.” It’s not every day that a professor of anthropology gets a ‘mayday’ call from the engineers at M.I.T., so you want to make sure that it’s you they really want. It turns out it is. When they ask you if you’re familiar with ‘Lucy’, you reply, “One of the most significant archaeological finds in modern history? I should think so.”Lucy is a set of fossilized remains discovered in Ethiopia in the mid-seventies, by a group of anthropologists, so exuberant at their discovery, they gave her a name at...

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

Submissions are closed

✍️ 164 stories

“Her” by Dan G.

“Red Moon” by Cindy Calder

“The First Time I Died” by Reilly Stuber

“A Small Piece of Altadena” by Sophie Goldstein

“Standing Here Without You” by Makayla A

“The 4 leaf clover club” by M.R. Simon

“Black 47” by Abbey Ryan

“Ol' Jim” by Oliver Gray

“Grubs” by Ralph Aldrich

“THE OLD MAN AND THE RIVER ” by Maria Barrett

“The Residue of Home” by Arora Gleans

“Not Quite The Grapes of Wrath!” by Calvin Kirby

“Turniptown” by Michael Jefferson

“Fireworks come to Tonga” by KC Foster

“The Dawn.” by Ken Cartisano

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story in the form of a landline phone conversation.

Write a story from the POV of a now-defunct piece of technology.

Write a story in which someone time-travels 25 years or more into the past.

Write a story about people preparing for Y2K.

Contest #285

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

430

Contest entries

147

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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