January 28, 2014

January 28, 2014 StoryStarter prompt: Her memories were like the snowflakes. They formed, floated down to her, and dissipated when she tried to hold on to them...

My memories were like the snowflakes. They formed, floated down to me, and dissipated when I tried to hold on to them. The doctors had gently cautioned that this might happen -- to be patient. I'd suffered a severe head trauma and it would take some time for me to remember certain things. 

"Penny for your thoughts, Luce?" my brother asked me.

I gave him a faint smile and said, "Just watching the snow and thinking about how we used to stay outside making snow angels and building forts until mom made us come back inside to warm up."

He knelt in front of me, and took my hands in his. "You remember that?" Lenny asked, hopeful.

"Yeah, I guess I do," I chuckled softly. "It's the important shit that evades me."

He squeezed my knee and grinned. "What else do you remember?"

I stared into his chocolate brown eyes and thought. "A big black and white cat named boots?" I said, more of a question than a statement.

His eyes lit up, nearly sparkling with joy. "That damned cat was your favorite, Lucy. He slept with you every night. Right up beside your head on the pillow. Nana used to cuss up a storm about all the cat hair everywhere."

I bit my lower lip thoughtfully. "I remember," I said. Two little words I had been unable to say for so long. "I remember!"

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Lori L. Clark

Lori L. Clark currently resides in Hazelwood, MO with three rescue dogs. When Lori isn't listening to the voices in her head, waiting for the next creative inspiration to strike, she also loves to read, run, paint pet portraits and save dogs. Email Lori at

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