99 word prompt : unremembered
September 26, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about someone unremembered. Is it a momentary lapse or a loss in time? Play with the tone — make it funny, moving, or eerie. Go where the prompt leads you!
If you want to participate, here’s the link: CARROT RANCH
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Somewhere in an unremembered past, lying in a grave without a tombstone, my grandfather’s grandmother becomes part of the soil, her bones all that remain.
I am one percent Native American, one percent Cameroon, and imagine her to be the daughter of an escaped slave that joined a tribe. Did a French trapper in Canada need a wife, choosing a suitable one to wander the forests with him, bear his children, and die alone?
Your grandson spoke not of his mother, and married a wealthy man’s daughter. Your children may not know who you were, but your genes remember.
©Joelle LeGendre
Well written ✨👏 Loved the last line “Your children may not remember who you were, but your genes remember”
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Thanks. 🙂
That last like just seemed to flow through the fingers and onto the page.
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That last line slides in swiftly and effectively, taking ownership. Well done, Joelle.
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It’s one of those kinds of lines that seem to write themselves as you watch it happen.
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I thought of the graveyard, too, when I read the prompt. Good one.
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Thanks. 🙂
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This is good. It makes me think about all the lives that went into making mine. Most of them didn’t even intersect anywhere. I wonder what they would think about my life.
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No matter how much we know about our ancestors, we don’t know their dreams, their personalities or their thoughts. My great grandmother was a fragile, sickly woman who married a man her father disapproved of. I’ve met her cousins, who told about how her parents had to raise children by a man beneath their station. My grandfather ran away at 14.
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