Rearview Mirror

This post is completely fiction.  It was written in response to The Red Dress Club’s prompt to write a 26 sentence piece where each sentence starts with the next letter in the alphabet.  I have done my best to write something that follows that rule AND has some sort of meaning.  Please be kind.

Around the bend and over a small hill there was a run-down park.  Because this park didn’t have the “new” plastic “toys”, it was rarely frequented by the neighborhood kids anymore.

Cautiously, I approached the ancient swing set.  Dangling from the rusted chains were old, rubber swings.  Even though they were worn from countless years of weathering, I decided to give one a try.

Fingering the chains delicately to see if the rust would escape and find a new home on my hands, I gently lowered myself onto the swing. Giving myself a push with my feet, I let go.  Hampered by the weight of being an adult, I didn’t immediately soar as I did as a child.  I remembered for a second what it was like to swing so high that I would come off the swing at the height of my flight.

Just as I was about to jump from my swing like I did as a smaller version of myself, i realized I was being watched.

Keeping my nerves to myself, I slowed down my swingfest.  Leveling my eyes with the horizon, I kept the figure in my peripheral view.  My hands started sweating.  No longer alone, I was embarrassed by my uninhibited display.

Only after I had distanced myself from the swing set did I start to calm down.   Positioning myself near the picnic area, I tried to act interested in a placard near the picnic structure.  Quickly but quietly, I inched my way toward the back of the structure to escape the line of sight of the Park Intruder.

Reluctantly I admitted to myself that I was the one who would not stay.

Sighing heavily, I started toward the gate.

Touching it, I realized I would never be back. Unfazed, I continued through the gate and back up the hill.  Vacantly I walked through that familiar neighborhood–completely unseeing of the changes that had taken place in the past many years.

We had run through this neighborhood all those years ago with such innocent excitement.  Xanthic-tinted dust had rolled around our feet as we raced to the park.

Yesterdays were in the past; however, and I had to accept that.

Zeroing in on the crossroads ahead, I continued to walk.

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About ksluiter

Just a small town girl...wait no, that is a Journey song. Although I do live in a small town. I am a wife, a mother, a teacher, and a writer. We have joys and we have struggles. Just like you.
This entry was posted in being an adult is really not that great, changes, fiction, Red Dress Club, stuff that means stuff. Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to Rearview Mirror

  1. Sherri says:

    Oh man, that was awesome! I may try this one; one of my goals this year is to do some Red Dress Club stuff!

  2. Shanon says:

    And I am very very impressed with what you have written here.
    Because this is not an easy thing to do.
    Certainly not for me anyway.
    Don’t worry, I am not going to be going much further with this.
    Even though it is somewhat intriguing.
    Frack —
    Goodnight Katie!

  3. Tonya says:

    Wow!! I am so impressed and all I was able to pull off was a stupid poem of sorts about Vegas.

  4. CDG says:

    Wow!
    and your X word?was awesome.

  5. Jackie says:

    That was amazing!! Not only a great short story but you perfectly used every letter of the alphabet for each sentence!

  6. awesome—loved the tension in the air, plus the vivid memories of childhood! great job!
    😉

  7. Ratz says:

    This made me miss my childhood days when we would goto the mangy park that we had in the center of the city. Nice piece

  8. Kit says:

    Love it! Great job!

  9. Nichole says:

    Oh, Katie, I loved this.
    I loved that you saw the park through adult eyes (worried about the rust transferring onto your hands) but still as a child (the temptation to jump from the swing). Kind of like you still had a foot in both worlds.

    Such a lovely contrast, Katie!
    Great work.

  10. varunner says:

    Ah yes, I’ve sat on those swings myself I think. Stellar X word – you rock!

  11. Victoria KP says:

    I loved this. I could really feel how the character felt being “caught” on the swing.

  12. This piece made me so uncomfortable! I was terrified that something bad was going to happen to her, it read like a murder mystery, like a stalking.

  13. I really loved this, too. I see myself on that swing, soaring high above the treeline, though I don’t come out of the seat as much as I used to. I was a bit disappointed that it was all over when you realized you were being watched, but I love the words that followed, a woman reminiscing in such a way she doesn’t see the changes around her.

  14. Xanthic? I think you get the award for most creative X word!

    This was sad and melancholy to me. Beautifully done.

    My problem with those rubber sings is how much it pinches my ass now!

  15. Wow, that really drew me in. Great use of words for the tough letters. Stopping by from Red Dress Club!

  16. The_BMG says:

    Amazing! I had to go look up your x word because I had never seen it before! As Nichole said above, I like the contrast between adult and child.

  17. Melissa says:

    Great story & I loved your choice of “x” words. :o)

  18. Erin says:

    That sounds like so much fun! And now, tomorrow I will head to my local park and relive that!

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