I found another interesting writing prompt today that I thought I'd enjoy writing about. The prompt is called 'memory lane', and asks you to visualize and then write a bit about what your 'memory lane' would look like (based on your own mind). I encourage my dad to follow this prompt with me, as I believe he'd be able to give a well-thought description of his own "memory lane". Below is my description of my own.
I like to think of my memory lane as more of a mountain trail. At the very beginning of the trail, there are no trees, no rocks, and the trail is paved. As I walk along this trail, there are flowers blooming along the sides. Chipmunks dash in and out of bushes that start to spring up as I walk towards a woodline that I can see in the distance. The path is flat, smooth, and without bumps. The incline has not yet begun. As I draw closer to the woodline, the path turns to dirt, and the incline begins. Past the woodline, the trees seem to swallow me whole. Roots come up from the ground and there's barely any tread here; it's clear to see that this part of the trail is seldom used. Thorn bushes grow close to the sides of what little trail that's left, snagging on my arms and legs as I hurry to get out of this uncomfortable place. I escape the thorn bushes and continue up the trail, only to come face to face with a rocky cliff. There appears to be no way around it, so I begin climbing- even though there are barely any places to put my hands and feet. This is the hardest part of the trail. As I continually pull myself upwards, I cut my palm open and my arms begin to feel as though they are going to give out. I can see the top of the cliff and the continuation of the trail, but I beg to question if it's worth continuing with the amount of pain I'm in. My foot begins to slip, but as I feel myself fall I continue to pull myself up, knowing I'm almost where I need to be. I pull myself up from the cliffside. The trail is gone, and I'm in a field of flowers. The sky is clear with only a few fluffy white clouds, and there's a soft breeze. I look off in the distance and I see a lake with houses around it- so I begin to walk through the field, with the hope of reaching home.
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