The Burning Barrel

Time transforms events into a fiction we feed until the event gets lost in our minds, transforming into what we imagined. Restless dreams are inherent to youth. Age collects memories. No one can take our memories. They are personal. Katie held a sweet memory silent her entire life. She folded it in the near transparent pages of the family Bible. One memory, a few moments in the dusty summer harvest and frozen winter snow, held her hostage to dreams never realized. Katie became a mother, a grandmother and great-grandmother. With the birth of each new generation, Katie lost her name. And the dreams drifted further from her reach as she lost herself and became grandmother.