| Biographical Non-Fiction posted June 14, 2023 |
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The perfect moment is just a second away.
The Time of my Life
by Loretta Bigg
I was lying in a hammock, on a sunny-hot day, reading a book called Why Hitler, Why Stalin. Why do I remember? Because I realized at that moment that I was completely content, that my life was perfect at that one little moment in time.
"Something bad is sure to happen," I thought to myself. I didn't believe in fate, but rested my surety of this with experience. I did not dare to be happy because something bad always lurked right behind.
But nothing occurred to ruin everything. I held my breath till my cheeks puffed out, glanced occasionally at my watch. Not a thing.
So I lay there, knowing suddenly, that for once destiny had no awful plan in store. The minutes turned to hours, and I remained content. I read my book, but still didn't know why the world had dropped such monsters as Hitler and Stalin on our oblivious heads. Iplayed with punctuation: Why, Hitler? Why, Stalin? But that didn't alter a thing in my forebodings.
Surely this precious moment of my existence was too innocent to hide a horror around the corner?
"It's like some time in the future," I thought. "Some contest will ask me to write about the best time of my life, and this will be it. I will remember this moment. Nothing bad is coming this time. Nothing."
The air around me grew icy as soon as this thought arose. An insidious breeze rose to almost-gale. A needle-like rain began to fall, spilling on my book that asked so rhetorically, Why Hitler? Why Stalin? Why indeed? What terror could possibly follow in their footsteps?
But nothing happened to destroy my joy. And the day cleared up. Still, you never knew. So I packed up Why Hitler Why Stalin, and went back inside to make myself the most perfect hot chocolate that ever was.
Nothing bad this time had come, at last, at last, the time of my life.
Till the phone rang. Till I picked up. Till an anonymous doctor told me about mom.
The time of my life: writing prompt entry
I was lying in a hammock, on a sunny-hot day, reading a book called Why Hitler, Why Stalin. Why do I remember? Because I realized at that moment that I was completely content, that my life was perfect at that one little moment in time.
"Something bad is sure to happen," I thought to myself. I didn't believe in fate, but rested my surety of this with experience. I did not dare to be happy because something bad always lurked right behind.
But nothing occurred to ruin everything. I held my breath till my cheeks puffed out, glanced occasionally at my watch. Not a thing.
So I lay there, knowing suddenly, that for once destiny had no awful plan in store. The minutes turned to hours, and I remained content. I read my book, but still didn't know why the world had dropped such monsters as Hitler and Stalin on our oblivious heads. Iplayed with punctuation: Why, Hitler? Why, Stalin? But that didn't alter a thing in my forebodings.
Surely this precious moment of my existence was too innocent to hide a horror around the corner?
"It's like some time in the future," I thought. "Some contest will ask me to write about the best time of my life, and this will be it. I will remember this moment. Nothing bad is coming this time. Nothing."
The air around me grew icy as soon as this thought arose. An insidious breeze rose to almost-gale. A needle-like rain began to fall, spilling on my book that asked so rhetorically, Why Hitler? Why Stalin? Why indeed? What terror could possibly follow in their footsteps?
But nothing happened to destroy my joy. And the day cleared up. Still, you never knew. So I packed up Why Hitler Why Stalin, and went back inside to make myself the most perfect hot chocolate that ever was.
Nothing bad this time had come, at last, at last, the time of my life.
Till the phone rang. Till I picked up. Till an anonymous doctor told me about mom.
"Something bad is sure to happen," I thought to myself. I didn't believe in fate, but rested my surety of this with experience. I did not dare to be happy because something bad always lurked right behind.
But nothing occurred to ruin everything. I held my breath till my cheeks puffed out, glanced occasionally at my watch. Not a thing.
So I lay there, knowing suddenly, that for once destiny had no awful plan in store. The minutes turned to hours, and I remained content. I read my book, but still didn't know why the world had dropped such monsters as Hitler and Stalin on our oblivious heads. Iplayed with punctuation: Why, Hitler? Why, Stalin? But that didn't alter a thing in my forebodings.
Surely this precious moment of my existence was too innocent to hide a horror around the corner?
"It's like some time in the future," I thought. "Some contest will ask me to write about the best time of my life, and this will be it. I will remember this moment. Nothing bad is coming this time. Nothing."
The air around me grew icy as soon as this thought arose. An insidious breeze rose to almost-gale. A needle-like rain began to fall, spilling on my book that asked so rhetorically, Why Hitler? Why Stalin? Why indeed? What terror could possibly follow in their footsteps?
But nothing happened to destroy my joy. And the day cleared up. Still, you never knew. So I packed up Why Hitler Why Stalin, and went back inside to make myself the most perfect hot chocolate that ever was.
Nothing bad this time had come, at last, at last, the time of my life.
Till the phone rang. Till I picked up. Till an anonymous doctor told me about mom.
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Writing Prompt Write a short story. The topic is: The best time you ever had in your life. It can be as an adult or as a child. Please keep it clean. Minimum length 100 words. Maximum Length 4,000 words. |
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