| Biographical Non-Fiction posted October 5, 2020 |
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Childhood Memory
The Back Lane
by Wils
I remember the back lane, a gravel T-junction shaped road that served as a supposed shortcut between two parallel running streets. It was down this lane that I learned to ride a bike, eventually graduating to the level of tearing off with my friends, in a race of wheels leaving behind a cloud of dust only to return neck and neck. The biggest burnout skid was declared the winner.
The lane ran alongside the backyard of our family home and it was always a cause of excitement when the rare sound of approaching traffic could be heard. We would crane our necks and try to guess the driver.
On the left hand side of the laneway was an entanglement of prickles covering delicious helpings of blackberries. As a group we would delve into the unknown, thrashing away at the prickles only to return victorious with blackberries in a bucket and arms full of blood-showered scratches. Such is life!
In recent years I drove down the same back lane, thirty-something years after last seeing it. Gone are the dust and stones that gave the lane its character. Today it is a fully bitumised road, a street that is named after a person of the community. There is a steady flow of traffic on that street, a long way from the two to three cars a week that there used to be.
It may be a working road now but to me it will always be known as the back lane.
I Remember writing prompt entry
I remember the back lane, a gravel T-junction shaped road that served as a supposed shortcut between two parallel running streets. It was down this lane that I learned to ride a bike, eventually graduating to the level of tearing off with my friends, in a race of wheels leaving behind a cloud of dust only to return neck and neck. The biggest burnout skid was declared the winner.
The lane ran alongside the backyard of our family home and it was always a cause of excitement when the rare sound of approaching traffic could be heard. We would crane our necks and try to guess the driver.
On the left hand side of the laneway was an entanglement of prickles covering delicious helpings of blackberries. As a group we would delve into the unknown, thrashing away at the prickles only to return victorious with blackberries in a bucket and arms full of blood-showered scratches. Such is life!
In recent years I drove down the same back lane, thirty-something years after last seeing it. Gone are the dust and stones that gave the lane its character. Today it is a fully bitumised road, a street that is named after a person of the community. There is a steady flow of traffic on that street, a long way from the two to three cars a week that there used to be.
It may be a working road now but to me it will always be known as the back lane.
The lane ran alongside the backyard of our family home and it was always a cause of excitement when the rare sound of approaching traffic could be heard. We would crane our necks and try to guess the driver.
On the left hand side of the laneway was an entanglement of prickles covering delicious helpings of blackberries. As a group we would delve into the unknown, thrashing away at the prickles only to return victorious with blackberries in a bucket and arms full of blood-showered scratches. Such is life!
In recent years I drove down the same back lane, thirty-something years after last seeing it. Gone are the dust and stones that gave the lane its character. Today it is a fully bitumised road, a street that is named after a person of the community. There is a steady flow of traffic on that street, a long way from the two to three cars a week that there used to be.
It may be a working road now but to me it will always be known as the back lane.
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Writing Prompt Begin your non-fiction autobiographical story or poem with the words 'I remember...' Complete the sentence conveying a moment, an object, a feeling, etc. This does not have to be a profound memory, but should allow readers insight into your feelings, observations and/or thoughts. Use at least 100, but not more than 1,000 words. The count should be stated in your author notes. |
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