It’s Wednesday, so I’m Friday Fictioneering! Yessiree. This photo by J. Hardy Carroll, chosen by our facilitator by excellence, Rochelle, brought me immediately to childhood. One like I had. When times were simpler and freer.
Care to join the party? Click on the blue frog below to add your 100-word story. G’head, it’s fun!
Click mo to join in!
“Go outside and play. Be home for supper.” Mom dismissed us to go do what children do.
We went to the park. We played games we invented. We hung upside down on the monkey bars. We played hide-and-seek. We disputed. We negotiated. We settled.
Always too soon, Daddy whistled for us to get home for supper.
We jumped on our bikes, disbanding with promises to be back at the park tomorrow.
Nowadays? Kids aren’t allowed out of sight of their parents’ watchful eyes. Everything is scheduled. They’ve no freedom to figure out how to settle the score on their own.
Welcome to Crispina’s weekly challenge—open to all—just for FUN, FUN, FUN
Here’s how it works:
Every Wednesday she posts a photo (this week it’s that one below.)
You respond with something CREATIVE. Click here to see just how wide open this challenge is!
This week, a bit of nostalgia 🙂
Growing up across the street from the railroad tracks, so to speak, watching the long freighter trains go by, feeling the rumble through my body, listening for the tooting of the horn; all these were part of a daily sensory adventure. Even my tastebuds were affected if I was close enough to get a mouthful of dust stirred up by those furiously turning rail wheels.
There were no fences back then. And no fears. And no rules.
And then one day, the the whistles were no longer allowed to blow in the middle of the night – not that we heard them anyway. And yet we missed them. Times change.
My sons don’t have the same freedom we did. They would have to go out of their way to walk the tracks. As a mother, I can’t help but feel relief that they can’t. I’ve fallen into the trap of over-protection.