Submissions to this category are generally told in the first person and cover personal reflection, autobiographies and memories of the past.
Rather than focusing on factual accounts, memoirs are more a recollection of moments in time that were either vivid or unique to the author.
Up, unwilling out of sleep’s sensuous pit. Again, the cry, thin, tentative. Fourth time tonight? Fifth? Cosy-rosy dreams fade. Windows, still winter dark. Time? Late—were there streetlights? Reach blindly for clock on table. Sleep-numb fingers touch but o...
Up, unwilling out of sleep’s sensuous pit. Again, the cry, thin, tentative. Fourth time tonight? Fifth? Cosy-rosy dreams fade. Windows, still winter dark. Time? Late—were there streetlights? Reach blindly for clock on table. Sleep-numb fingers touch but o...
When I was a little girl, I lived in silent fear of losing my mother the way she lost hers. That fear became excessive when I reached the age of seven, the same age she was when her mother fell down the basement stairs and hit her head. I watched Mama lik...
Always a test Waiting for the unknown Time to pass Being alone is the worst part Memories come to visit Dreams take over Sadness and happiness mix Flooding my mind and heart Waiting for change But afraid it will happen A test I have taken many times And w...
I wish I could remember every moment of growing up. The laughter. The tears. One last time. I want to see the glow of my wife’s face in the setting sun. One last time. I crave to feel the warmth of her body curled against mine. One last time. I wish I cou...
It may be fifty years since we got married, but it only seems like yesterday. Half a century has gone in the blink of an eye. Five decades of happiness and woes, triumphs and failures, laughter and tears. Memories come and go, but one day I will always re...
Memories of conversations and a penny's worth of sawdust. Is there a heaven? Mom said there was. With unicorns and porch swings. She would take me in her arms and hug me. Touching my cheek with her tears as she passed, with a penny's worth of sawdust in h...
Moonlight dancing over silent waters gently flowing over soft quarters across stones and leaves of caravels cascading over the water mill of my mind as heaven in all its glory shines lighting the golden pond with the water that has past gently flowing ove...
It had been another long night at the dance club and the staff couldn't wait for the bright lights to be turned on signaling the end of the evening. The waitresses began to clean off the tables as the floor security ushered the patrons up the flight of st...
Just that—a moment. Not a life resolving, world changing event. Trivial, you will think it. But for me, a just-turned-sixteen, raw, callow adolescent with little knowledge of the way of the world, it was a mind stirring, almost upsetting moment, recalled...
Recently I was reminded about the day I quit high school. Many of my friends believed the decision was made in haste, far from it. I spent a great deal of time on it. I even called a few potential employers and inquired if a high school diploma was mandat...
Clyth in Caithness, north-east Scotland was the original source of my mother’s parents. I was seventy-seven when I felt a renewed need to drive up there. A journey I should have made years ago when I was a shade spritelier. The motivation, in 2011, was ba...
Always a car-sleeper as a young girl, I would awaken to the sound of gravel beneath the tires. To this day, that sound excites me, bringing back memories of simpler times. One week each summer, my twin sister and I were transported to what seemed like a d...
The scars of yesterday Remind her She must take control Taking a deep breath Refusing the tears to fall She will be strong She waits Soon to pack the memories away To love another day No choices she has Each day will be a bit easier She must be strong
