The sounds of children laughing and yelling, “Last one there is the rotten egg.” It was alway a race to see who would be the first to jump off the rocks and into the water. Looking out from the jump-in rock brought the memories flooding back. Someone suggested a park along the edge of the quarry would be a nice touch. HA! The park brought rules. All too soon, the race to the rock to jump into the water was vetoed. No more swimming under a full moon. At least they’d left the water. But for how long? |
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Prompt - January 19, 2017 - write about a quarry.
2 Comments
Charli Mills
1/26/2017 12:45:07 am
Ah, that carefree feeling of childhood is caught in your flash. I think we all have that burden of growing up and seeing the rules getting applied to our wild spaces. Your photo looks similar to the swimming hole of my childhood!
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1/26/2017 06:28:11 am
Having the memories and pictures in our minds keeps the swimming holes real regardless of what has become of them.
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