sweet memories

 This is a composition using narrative tenses. Congratulations Alba!

The bamboo cane field

 

A while ago, when my friend Laura and had jagged smiles and no more than 1,40 in height, I used to go to her cottage and spent my afternoons there with her and our imagination.

At the very beginning, I barely remember how we discovered that place, but it became our secret spot to become whatever we wanted to. We started to feel very comfy going there and talking about our deepest secrets, and with deepest secrets I mean the undisclosed stories a 7-year-old girl can have, such as becoming friends with a fairy.

When we reached the age of understanding fairies didn’t exist, we started using that safe place to show one to the other our little choreographies, believing ourselves to be Britney Spears for a hot second. Later on that year, my parents gifted me a camera for my birthday, so we realised we were tired of rehearsing as dancers, and we became Hollywood stars, recording home movies, with a complex script written by us, representing stories that were mostly about adventurous, brave girls that were lost in the jungle trying to survive.

Next to the bamboo field, there was an old swing that must have belonged to the former owner of the cottage. I highlight that the swing was rusty and gnawed, because one of my last memories there, was that the swing broke whit Laura on it, and she fell on top of a stone and I have never seen her cry so much ever again. That was one of the last memories I had in that magical place. I can’t ever give a number of hours that we spent there, but I can assure that the bamboo canes saw how we became little adults, and I’m so grateful of how that place helped for our friendship growth, because now, I genuinely can affirm Laura is one of my real friends in life.

By Alba Pulido Guerra