The monster game


Photo courtesy of Douglas M. MacIlroy

“Remember we used to play the monster game? Mum would grab us and hide us. ‘You’ll be safe from the monster here,’ she’d say, finger to lips, and I’d giggle and shush you.

Dad would charge in the front door, playing along, and we’d hear them downstairs yelling and crashing about. Dad would ham it up for us. I remember him stomping upstairs, calling, but Mum had told us, no matter what, we weren’t to give away our hiding place.”

“Is that how you remember it, Elise? Really? Well, you hold on to that. Good memories are a precious thing.”


It’s time for Friday Fictioneers again. Thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for hosting this  flash fiction event and selecting the weekly photo prompt. Read all the other 100 word stories here.



21 thoughts on “The monster game

  1. Dear Margaret,

    It sounds like those two don’t remember things quite the same way. Well done. You get extra points for not saying ‘diving helmet’ anywhere in your story. 😉




    • I’ve been reading a few things related to memory lately. It’s fascinating. Thank you for the ‘diving helmet avoidance points’ and for your encouraging feedback.


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