by Amy Reese

Time Capsulated – Friday Fictioneers

It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s photo was provided by Sandra Crook.

Join in the fun. Here are instructions. The objective is to write a 100-word story based on the photo prompt below. All are welcome.

crook
PHOTO PROMPT – © Sandra Crook

Genre: Memoir (100 words)

Time Capsulated

Time left no marks on our faces. It was measured with popsicle sticks and with pruny fingers from too much pool time. Our eyes blurred with chlorine as we watched double-features on repeat. We walked home with recycled tubs of popcorn in our bellies. No one told us to hurry. We kept no watches.

What we didn’t know was that this time we could never get back.

Do we have enough hands for all the candy at the store? Who would go? One more. Walk the dirt path. We traveled them all, shortcuts to save time that needed no saving.

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For more stories from the Fictioneers, click here.

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83 thoughts on “Time Capsulated – Friday Fictioneers”

      1. Weren’t they? It’s so much more dangerous these days it seems. I could never take my eyes off my kids when they were younger. But when I grew up, I just said see you later to my mom and left for the day! I would get cuts and scrapes and bee stings and stuff, too! And it’s funny, but I never let my own kids go barefoot! Too worried about them getting hurt like me I guess!

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      2. Oh, the things we used to do as kids! Wander around after midnight. Yes, we did this. It’s unheard of today. I lived through it somehow, Kelly. I worry about my kids getting cuts and bee stings, too. Not to mention poison oak because my son is allergic.

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      5. Isn’t that the truth! And my mom smoked in the car! In the winter with the windows rolled up! OMG – I’m probably going to get cancer someday!
        No, it isn’t a safer world. People are more violent now – definitely more guns around. School shootings were unheard of. My son just had an officer come into his school (again) to talk about being prepared in case of a shooting. They put baseballs in bags in each classroom as part of the plan because I guess throwing them at the shooter is supposed to be an effective deterrent, if a lot of balls are coming at them. What a thing to have to learn about!

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      6. My mom smoked when she was pregnant. A different time.
        What a thing to have to think about! Baseballs, huh? I haven’t heard that one. All we had to worry about were earthquakes. The school shootings really make me want to weep.

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      7. I know – it’s unbelievable. I worry about that stuff with both of my kids every day. Apparently after studies were done on the Virginia Tech shooting, they found the “get on the floor” protocol didn’t work – you think?? So that’s where the baseballs come in. Good to know the procedures are improving – what a strange thought. 🙂

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    1. Lots more of living in the moment. I’d return to those days in a heartbeat. I don’t know about reliving the whole thing though. Yes, it’s a great prompt that can go many different ways for sure. Thanks, Frank.

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  8. I’m in the middle of writing a longer story set in childhood and then at a mother’s bedside and have slowly realised the story is about that feeling of time stopping, if only for a while. You’ve captured it so well here.

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  10. Dear Amy,

    This brought back memories to the time when the high point of the day was the ice cream man ringing his bell down our little street. I remember spoon malts and playing all day. Chlorine in the eyes…I was a swimmer then, too. Very nicely done.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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    1. The ice cream man was a definite high point. Not the same as popsicles from home. 🙂 Those sound like wonderful memories, Rochelle. Once a swimmer, always a swimmer. I bet you still are. Thank you.

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    1. Thanks for your lovely comments, Ansumani. I’m glad you liked my ending. We knew all the shortcuts, but really didn’t need them, but I guess we had the time to find them all.

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    1. I was thinking much later after I wrote this how I sure did write about a lot of junk food. But, that’s how it was. Luckily, now I don’t need it all and rarely eat a candy bar. I don’t know about the clowns guiding us though. That sounds a bit on the creepy side. 🙂

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  22. Isn’t it amazing how we all know exactly what you’re writing about, different ages, differen backgrounds? This is great. I don’t want to go back, but the endlessness of time, the ‘are we there yet’, and ‘soon’ being an eternity–I could need a few of those back. Oh, and excellent story, too. 😀 (What are recycled tubs of popcorn? the foreigner asks.)

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    1. I feel the same way, Gah. I don’t necessarily want to go back, back…but maybe for just a little bit. I’m not sure you really want to know what recycled tubs of popcorn are! It’s a bit disgusting. But, hey, this proves we were kids. If you had an empty tub of popcorn, they would re-fill it for you, so…we kind of found them lying around. I know! I can’t believe we did that! Thank you.

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    1. Thanks, Suzanne. Memories are best shared with friends. I’m glad you have some happy memories of your childhood. You don’t realize until you’re an adult just how short and special that time really is.

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