Old lady Agatha sat outside on her plastic chair, with her plastic water bottle in hand. The thoughts hastily drifting to imprints. That one time, those yarns, that other time, those other yarns. She smiles. Memories of when plastic water bottles weren’t mod. Memories of a time when memories were only told through stories. Her smile widens. Yes indeed, memories of memories.

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1 year ago

We had to read this story two or three times before we understood the use of the word “imprints” to be a replacement for memories. A sad, but true, comment on our times. The art work was particularly appealing.

1 year ago

Melissa, once again, I really love your picture! It surely must be Picasso during his red period. ? Seriously, it just pulls me in. I guess it’s a little village? I can make out the roofs. It’s the colors I love. I don’t understand the story at all, but it fascinates me nonetheless. I like things I don’t immediately understand!

Margarida Brei
Margarida Brei(@margarida-brei)
Reply to  Melissa Taggart
1 year ago

I love your idea of “memories of memories.” Glad that you were able to write about plastic in a positive way.

Carrie OLeary
Carrie OLeary(@carrie-oleary)
1 year ago

I love that you use your own artwork with your stories. I wouldn’t dare share mine – I think I’d better stick to my digital artworks. Am I right in presuming that the ‘yarns’ in your story refer to the type of stories told at the fireside, or equally social place, and repeated time and again? Just wanted to make sure I’m understanding your story correctly 🙂

Lotchie Carmelo
Lotchie Carmelo(@lotchie-carmelo)
1 year ago

Hello, Melissa. When I read your story, I knew that plastic and bottled water had deep roots, and there is a hidden mystery about them. Thanks for pointing it out in your comment. Your idea about memories of memories was so moving. Well done.

Lotchie Carmelo
Lotchie Carmelo(@lotchie-carmelo)
Reply to  Melissa Taggart
1 year ago

Yeah, you are right. You are welcome, Melissa.

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