Forgotten Memories

Today’s Daily Prompt asks us to imagine ourselves at a garage sale, finding something that we used to own. Here’s the memory that my imagination pulled from nowhere.




Sitting amongst the odds and ends, the gadgets and the relics, the old and the new it finds its home. This part of my past forgotten and remembered all at once.

To anyone else, it’s nothing more than plastic rubbish, not worthy of 10c, not a treasure sneakily discovered and hidden from prying eyes. But once upon a time, to a three year old girl, it meant the world.

You never forget your first love, even if you are too young to remember anything else around you. I remember Jeffrey – Jeremy? Jason? Something with a J… What’s in a name in any case! – with the fondness of youth. That is a very fuzzy, unspecific fondness. I can’t remember what he looks like, what his voice sounded like, how old he was or anything of those sorts. But I can remember the day that this piece of plastic was placed into my hands, and you know a girl never forgets her first item of jewellery.

We were sitting together on his couch – or was it his bed, or his floor? – and he carefully pulled it out of his pocket and placed it gently into my hands, blushing as he did so – or maybe it was shoved into my face with the tenderness of an angry gorilla. It didn’t really make a difference, because all that I saw was the beautiful ocean blue hearts dancing on beads with a small plastic clasp – not elastic! So sophisticated!
“Kiss her,” his older brother chanted from the corner.
That much I distinctly recall as my own cheeks flushed a bright red (I’m sure). And, from that moment, Jeffrey was considered as my first boyfriend. Nevermind that I don’t remember seeing him again, not even at playschool. We were destined to be together, I just knew it!

A dazzle of ocean blue on a table of mismatched objects, and I am transported back to my three year old self. I find my cheeks flushing just at the thought. I pick it up and run my hands over it, trying to shine away the years of dust and grime and bad memories in between and, with a smile, I replace it on the table, ready to make another little girl’s dreams come true.


3 thoughts on “Forgotten Memories

  1. Pingback: Welcome Home Skip (Short fiction) | The Jittery Goat

  2. Pingback: Daily Prompt : Memories For Sale | writinglikeastoner

  3. Pingback: Memories: The Typewriter and The Coat Rack | Bastet and Sekhmet

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