Today’s post includes the draft of what I came up with for the daily writing prompt, A stroll down memory lane, posted last week. Did you check it out yet? It includes a photo prompt to get your creative juices flowing, as well as tips for completing it.

A stroll down memory lane by K.E. Creighton

We stroll down the Pont des Arts in Paris at dusk after we leave the museum. It’s cool out so he has his arm draped around my shoulder as he looks out over the tranquil water toward the bridge in the near distance. It’s been a while since we’ve been here but the busy stillness and tangible romanticism of this city never cease to amaze me. And its essence will stay with me, us, for at least a few weeks after we’ve left it again.

All the locks of love have been removed now, along with the star-shaped one we had placed near a light pole in the middle of the bridge so we wouldn’t ever lose it. “This is for every dream you’ve made come true,” he said as we fastened it to the wire fence, still high on the clichéd yet fundamental sweetness of our nuptials. It’s lost now, that lock. But the memory of its security still lingers, along with all the others. You can still feel their promises in the air somehow, all those promises both kept and broken since.

This moment is different in its texture when compared to our last moment here, but it’s not different in its sublimity. It feels as if it’s been quietly ordained by a superpower.

Since our last time here, we’ve welcomed loved ones into our new small family. And lost a few too, some too soon. We’ve celebrated wins and mourned failures. There have been many high highs and many low lows. We lived it all together. And had I known then what I know now, I don’t know if I would have felt more foolish, wiser, more alive, more serene– more or less something else, than what I do now.

Love can still be true and not entirely solid. Sometimes love is more like elastic, where there’s either more of it than you know what to do with, or it’s stretched to its max and about to snap. Since our last rendezvous here, I’ve learned that love is still true, as long as it doesn’t snap. And I’m grateful I didn’t know that then.

When we reach the center of the bridge, we pause and begin to inspire what makes us, us. Breathing in a memory to reenvision a future is easier here in this distant place than where we’re from. And though it’s transposed and bears meaning in some other language, in some other region, neither one of us seems to mind. It’s still familiar to us. And that’s what matters.

Notes on this writing prompt

To be honest, writing this was a bit uncomfortable for me at times. I haven’t really written many things, like this, that are more on the romantic side of things. I did like reminiscing about the Pont des Arts in Paris, though. I was there around five years ago after they removed all the locks from the bridge. But even though the locks were gone, you could still sense the love and romance in the air. It sounds so cliché to say that, yet it’s still true. And I did enjoy writing something that was a bit more uplifting for a change. It’s good to write about love periodically, I discovered, to maintain one’s hope in humanity and the meaning of meaningful human bonds.

Don’t forget to check out the full writing prompt, with tips for completing it, here–> Daily Writing Prompt: A stroll down memory lane [Photo Prompt]. And if you completed this writing prompt too, share a link to your writing in a comment below or tag @kecreighton on WordPress or Facebook. We’d love to read your writing.

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