When she remembered the holiday, she always remembered the same things: the ferry ride over, the sprawl of countryside on the drive out, and the way the irregular fields were stitched with rows of trees. But when she tried to remember the castle itself, she couldn’t recall a single detail.
There were pictures, to be sure. She swiped her thumb across her phone screen, paging through them. Generic pictures: the royal bedroom, the chamber organ, the Nash clock.
They were nothing like the sort of pictures she normally took. These were the soulless stills of a promotional brochure. Where were the candid shots of Dominic? The forced perspective at the turret? Why no shameless selfie beneath the iconic arched entry?
“Don’t you remember, love? We played the bowls. You had the walnut cake in the tearoom. Don’t you remember?”
She nodded. “Of course.”
But the thing was, she didn’t.
I’m always in trouble when I read other’s takes before writing my own. After reading the fine story by J Hardy Carroll, I just couldn’t shake the whole alien abduction thing! I apologize for the pale rehashing.
I’m on to Nanowrimo–I’m at about 46,000 words and counting.