memories – Page 2 – Tina Stewart Brakebill

seven minutes

September 20, 2025September 19, 2025 Tina Stewart Brakebill

seven minutes gone

time moving like molasses

bittersweet and slow

and the scent carries me back

to bygone weekend mornings

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Sept. 20, 2025

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

first dates and pilot lights

September 19, 2025 Tina Stewart Brakebill

As it often did, the whoosh of the burner sent Linda’s mind back. He wasn’t her type, but she had promised her roommate she’d be the fourth for one double date. Standing in her shared college kitchen, he had said “do you mind” as he had casually leaned over the stove and lit a cigarette on the pilot light. Linda had always hated smoking but something about that casual lean gave her a thrill. Now forty years later, the thrill was still there. Thankfully the cigarettes were not.

Thanks for the inspiration to tell a highly fictionalized version of our first date.

It’s Thursday’s Six Sentence Story Blog Hop

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

Unforgettable

May 7, 2024 Tina Stewart Brakebill

She held out her arms to hug me, but I knew this wasn’t my house — and she definitely wasn’t my wife.

Or was she?

I searched my mind for a memory of her face, and I felt … something. Like a name on the tip of my tongue or a tune that I could hum but the words were not quite right. She smiled and, again, I felt … something. Like a dog’s cold nose on a sunny summer day or the smell of coffee in the morning. Familiar. Safe.

But no! The room was wrong. Where were my things? Why was everything so shiny and white? It was all wrong! She was all wrong!

I wasn’t married. I was only 20. But why did she keep saying she was my wife? Why was her face so familiar? Maybe she was my mom’s friend. Why was that song stuck in my head?

Panicked, I turned to run and stopped dead in my tracks. Stunned by my reflection. I touched my face and felt the deep scar across my forehead. Ran my fingers through my hair. Why was it so white? That’s not me. That’s definitely not me.

Or was it?

I searched my mind for a memory of that face and felt … something. I watched the tears run down that face as I softly hummed the song stuck in head.

Unforgettable, she said.