Writers Prompt #12: An hour as your 10 year old self
Death To Stock

First digital answer to Your prompts…


That means 11 years ago.

Really though, a lifetime, now that i know.

I don’t let myself go back too often.

Sometimes my minds takes me there.

Whisks me back. In an instant.

Wind whipping my hair

Hazy illusions

Mirrored onto the straight inner state highway

Sleepy towns whizzing by

As we leave the bay behind

Radio blasting, his jokey singing,

newest funky VW project in tow

Rolling down the road, weekend escape ahead,

Just Papa and me.

I’ll look down at my hand, the me of 10 years discovering a note clenched in fist, scrawled in haste,

Short, but heavy. Now that I know.


I’ll glance over at dad, drink in his face

his lively, expression filled face,

and his eyes

vibrant, open eyes

and savor this view, this drive.

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