top of page

Caterpillar Summers and Frigid Cold Winters

Writing Rambles #8

This prompt inspired something a little more sad. When I think of memory loss, at least on a substantial level, I think of some kind of trauma. Something that would make the brain need to protect itself and yet I wanted to show the good things it might let slide to remind us all that there’s always beauty, sometimes its just hard to find.

As always, if you want to join the fun, write your own story off of the promt before you read mine and post it in the fireside room! I’d love to read it!

Prompt: He could only remember…

Caterpillar Summers and Frigid Cold Winters written June 23, 2019

He could only remember pieces... Just little, out of context fragments of his childhood. A childhood he almost felt a stranger to.

Collecting caterpillars in the glow of summer and the way they tickled his skin as they crawled across hands. Watching fireflies on balmy nights, but never catching them, only hoping they’d one day find him good enough to grace him with their light and make him one of them. Building stick forts in the quiet woods out back that he dreamed he could live in whenever he needed to get away from something he couldn’t quite remember, but the leaves would always fall in autumn and the forest wasn’t as protected.

Of the frigid winters he remembered mostly the dark nights and how that little room was even darker. He could recall a small flame, just a weak flicker of light in a damp, smoky fireplace.

Spring always brought him warmth and color, but always there was something that never left, something inky and heavy that shadows all his other memories and consequently keeps him living in the dark.

Thanks for reading!

Your Captain,



bottom of page