Duncan opened his eyes and looked around the room.
He couldn’t believe his luck! Everyone was sleeping.
The huge family dinner had been amazing and delicious. Now the family was sprawled in chairs, sofas, even on the floor. Duncan pushed himself up out of his chair and carefully stepped over the sleeping boy with the open book on his chest. Someone stirred on the couch, but Duncan tiptoed out through the back kitchen door.
As the door clicked shut behind him, he breathed in the fresh afternoon air. Now, where was his bike?
Behind the garage, he found the blue BMX. He climbed on, but it was strange; suddenly it felt too small for him. No matter — he was just taking a wee spin around the park.
He headed down the bike path and began pedaling. He hoped he would see some of his buddies kicking the ball on the field, but he didn’t recognize any of the kids playing.
He kept riding.
The playground looked unfamiliar. The slide was bright blue, the swings were a rainbow of colors. When did they put that there? he wondered.
As he looped back toward the house, he wondered at the people staring at him.
The seat is too low, he thought. It does feel awkward. I need to raise it.
When home was in sight, he saw a woman running toward him.
“Dad!” she cried. “Dad, don’t scare us like that by taking off on Johnny’s bike!”
Hot Dogs and Marmalade 
You sucked me in! A perfect ending to this short story!!
This was fun to write! My mother, in her last years, wandered occasionally and it always scared me. We had to hide the car keys because I was sure she would go for a joyride if she could.
Very good story telling Sally.
It came out of caring for someone with dementia. Everything makes sense — until it doesn’t
I can understand. It’s is heartbreaking
What a sensitive look at life from inside a mind that’s beginning to wander.
Beautifully told, Sally.
By the way, there’s no deadline for posting stories on the challenge, but the earlier you post, the wider the audience, and I think it’s a shame that people are missing your stories. Absolutely no pressure though. I’ll put a note on this week’s challenge suggesting that folk check back during the week. Thanks for taking part.
Thanks, Jenne.
It may sound strange, but I’m okay with a small readership. I don’t consider myself a fiction writer. I have a hard time thinking of myself as a writer at all. I’m a person who plays around with words and stories. I love prompts and I love feedback. I think that’s why I post — for the three people who might say, “I really like this” or “this phrase touched me.”
I completely understand, Sally. I have the same difficulties myself. I’m glad you’re enjoying the challenge.
Seems like there’s life in the old dog yet!
Carefully told tale of an age many of us are fast approaching.
Approaching too fast, right? At least he didn’t take the car for a joy-ride!
I’m glad had a good ride. Sigh.
Me too.
What a touching story, Sally! Glad he had a good ride to the past and returned home safely. 💞
Yes, indeed. At least he didn’t take the car for a joy-ride!
Good one!