A Piece of Memory
The flashlight fell from my feeble fingers into the fast- moving current of Campers Creek. In the moonless darkness, my body trembled with the awful cold and uncertainty of the moment.
Uncertainty?
How did I know this was Campers Creek?
I was here with my club-footed cousin so many years ago…why do I remember that piece of my past and not this part of my present?
Why did I have a flashlight?
How did I get to the middle of this fifty-yard wide swirl of water?
Why am I here?
Why do I hear faint screams in my ears that sound demonic – and, yet, somehow familiar?
What is my name?
I can’t think of who I am!
Who do I know?
I was here with my club-footed cousin so many years ago…why do I remember that piece of my past and not this part of my present?
Did I just say that?
Why do I not know where to go?
Who is the woman whose image keeps flashing before me?
What do I do?
My God!
Has the world gone mad?
Flash Fiction by: Billy Ray Chitwood – 3/6/17
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The Final Curtain 
OMG! I hope this is creative writing and not real, Bill. 😉 Thanks for the jolt. Love your writing.
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Just writing, buddy! Lost a friend a few months back from the ugly junkman, Alzheimer! I’m living and writing tit age 110…if the scientists get their act together and come up with those ‘robotic vein tractors’ that get rid of bad cells, create new cells, and cure multiple diseases…not kidding! A few years off but supposedly coming…I’ll be cutting it kind of close! lol ♥
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Not ‘tit’ – TIL!!! Don’t count that as a first strike! ♥
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