I am writing a mini 2 page memoir for school. I am 12 years old.....( this is only a part of it)
what do you think???? changes??? edits??? thoughts?? suggestions??
A memory is defined as “the power or process of recalling something kept in mind”, however my definition is different…do you have that certain memory? You know the one that changed everything? The one that is carried along with us in our pocket even when we can’t feel it? Everyone does. You see, memories work as a road map, they show you the way when your lost. Sometimes, when the moment seems dark, they can show you the light…
The tips of my crimson fingers were numb from the bitter, frosty air that surrounded me. Streetlights striped light across the sidewalk as the sheen luminosity glimmered in my gray eyes, the gray of a snow-choked river. I felt the weight of Manhattans gaze, of mystery, of concealment. As I skipped from Grand Central, hand in hand with Daddy, I could see my breath forming shapeless clouds in front of me. My nostrils flared as the scent of honey-roasted nuts coated the inside of my nose. My eyes wandered to Daddy, widening as his eyes became pools of salt-water tears. Why would he be crying? I’m having a great time! However, deep down I knew…
“I promise I will always be with you,” my dad stated, but he didn’t declare it as a fact, more like a question with a period.
“Daddy, will you and mommy ever get back together?”
“I’m sorry sweetie but…no; I can’t tell you what is not going to happen just to make you happy at the moment. I love you and your sister and that is all that matters, with your mother or without.” His grip tightened as he clenched my frozen hand, petrified from the outside world. Featureless people slither with sluggish motion through the blue silver ahead of us. I’ve never really thought about it, but the city stands a s crystalline mirror for humanity, revealing its elaborate mass and multifaceted balance between good and bad. You would think bad is bad, but sometimes you need it to recognize the good that is still left.
“Once we get inside close your eyes and smell. I mean really smell it. I know you can,” my dad whispered in my ear. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, feeling the heat of his body surge through me, sending a chill down my spine. We pushed open the glass door to the candy shop. The bell was still dinging from our entrance. The million of odors swamped into my nose, leaving me motionless. The strongest of them, caramel and brown sugar smelled syrupy. That one was easy. The smell submerged into your nose as soon as you walked in. Next chocolate, of course, the sugary milky kind. I don’t think another little girl would have smelled anything else…that made me want to stop there. But I could feel my dad’s heart thumping next to me, just waiting for me to say ‘I love it’. I gave in.
Peppermint swirled in my nostrils, sharp and distinct as glass. Then raspberries, almost too sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple crisp and nuts came next. Buttery, earthy, warm, to genuine to be real. The subtle, mild scent of white chocolate lingered around me as well. I sighed with pleasure, but there was more. The butter cookies on the shelves added a soothing, calming fragrance, and the lollypops, a riot of fruit scents felt too concentrated to be real. The salty bite of pretzels, the vivid smell of lemons, and the rich mocha scent...smells I couldn’t even think of a name for.
“I love it,” I said in a voice so quiet I’m not even sure I could hear it. But of course he did. He could hear everything I could.
what do you think???? changes??? edits??? thoughts?? suggestions??
A memory is defined as “the power or process of recalling something kept in mind”, however my definition is different…do you have that certain memory? You know the one that changed everything? The one that is carried along with us in our pocket even when we can’t feel it? Everyone does. You see, memories work as a road map, they show you the way when your lost. Sometimes, when the moment seems dark, they can show you the light…
The tips of my crimson fingers were numb from the bitter, frosty air that surrounded me. Streetlights striped light across the sidewalk as the sheen luminosity glimmered in my gray eyes, the gray of a snow-choked river. I felt the weight of Manhattans gaze, of mystery, of concealment. As I skipped from Grand Central, hand in hand with Daddy, I could see my breath forming shapeless clouds in front of me. My nostrils flared as the scent of honey-roasted nuts coated the inside of my nose. My eyes wandered to Daddy, widening as his eyes became pools of salt-water tears. Why would he be crying? I’m having a great time! However, deep down I knew…
“I promise I will always be with you,” my dad stated, but he didn’t declare it as a fact, more like a question with a period.
“Daddy, will you and mommy ever get back together?”
“I’m sorry sweetie but…no; I can’t tell you what is not going to happen just to make you happy at the moment. I love you and your sister and that is all that matters, with your mother or without.” His grip tightened as he clenched my frozen hand, petrified from the outside world. Featureless people slither with sluggish motion through the blue silver ahead of us. I’ve never really thought about it, but the city stands a s crystalline mirror for humanity, revealing its elaborate mass and multifaceted balance between good and bad. You would think bad is bad, but sometimes you need it to recognize the good that is still left.
“Once we get inside close your eyes and smell. I mean really smell it. I know you can,” my dad whispered in my ear. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, feeling the heat of his body surge through me, sending a chill down my spine. We pushed open the glass door to the candy shop. The bell was still dinging from our entrance. The million of odors swamped into my nose, leaving me motionless. The strongest of them, caramel and brown sugar smelled syrupy. That one was easy. The smell submerged into your nose as soon as you walked in. Next chocolate, of course, the sugary milky kind. I don’t think another little girl would have smelled anything else…that made me want to stop there. But I could feel my dad’s heart thumping next to me, just waiting for me to say ‘I love it’. I gave in.
Peppermint swirled in my nostrils, sharp and distinct as glass. Then raspberries, almost too sweet, like too-ripe fruit. Apple crisp and nuts came next. Buttery, earthy, warm, to genuine to be real. The subtle, mild scent of white chocolate lingered around me as well. I sighed with pleasure, but there was more. The butter cookies on the shelves added a soothing, calming fragrance, and the lollypops, a riot of fruit scents felt too concentrated to be real. The salty bite of pretzels, the vivid smell of lemons, and the rich mocha scent...smells I couldn’t even think of a name for.
“I love it,” I said in a voice so quiet I’m not even sure I could hear it. But of course he did. He could hear everything I could.