A Girl Called Memory

“Memory!” the woman shouted at the water park. 

On the field, at the other end, I asked my wife. “Is that kid called Memory?”  

“I think it’s Melanie,” she responded, tending to our dog. “Memory is a terrible name. Kids would make fun of you.” 

“Memory!” the woman hollered again. This time a pre-teen girl trotted over. 

“It is Memory…” my wife sighed, shaking her head. “Oh no…”

“We’ll never forget about her,” I said, with an intelligent smirk. “I should write a story about her: A Girl Called Memory. That’s a great title.” 

My wife returned her attention to the dog, who was now laying on his side for tummy rubs. 

I looked up at the sky to find my words. Then it came to me: ““Memory!” the woman shouted at the water park.” I recited the line outloud. It came so naturally then… 

But now… as I sit here at my desk, I can’t remember what happened next. 

For more of my comedic writing, please check out my Humour Section

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