My ears are assaulted by chaos as my mom gimps our car to the side of the road. A quiver of terror rushes through me as I see the entire evening in ruins, up in flames. I feel myself slip into a fugue state. My mind becomes a vortex of time lost.
My little bubble shatters like glass as “we have to walk” pricks my consciousness. We’re close to home, not walk with three kids all uphill close to home. The mood shifted as though we were a pack of rabid, foaming hyenas.
Exhausted herself my mother loaded all of us down with every drop of liquid we had in the car. Again, hot day. She explained the “game” we were going to play; I was severely skeptical. But when my mom handed me a walking staff and dubbed me Frodo, I had no choice but to go on an adventure. With Gandalf (mom), Sam (my middle sister), and our youngest sister as Gollum because you must have a villain.
As we hiked up hill, under the sun, we made a great memory. It never occurred to me till years later my mom had done the impossible. Stolen back, time.
About the Creator
Chantae Harding
Time to be honest and cut the crap. I love to write! I always have. I lost that for a while. I am here to grow, learn, and experience my own writing process. If you don't like my writing that's ok. I'm still learning.
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Comments (1)
A beautiful story!