Creative quills writers creating new worlds


Two very short stories by Susan Jacobsen


The Sled

He pushed me all the way up the hill.  I would never have gotten up it, otherwise.  Before my accident, I’d climbed it a thousand times, but since then, I watch the other children go slowly up and come racing down on their sleds.  For three years now, I’ve wanted to race down too, but bent and twisted legs make it hard to do anything.  So does a mother who is ruled by fear, as though an excess of caution now could undo the past. 

My brother understood.  He watched me watch them, and today, while Mother is off doing chores, he put me on my sled, and we went up the hill.  Now I’ll go down alone.




Old friend, I remember you still.  So long ago we rambled through woods, down trails.  We were always together; now I am always alone.

Well, that is how it goes.  In our youth, we believe the ways things are will last forever, and we long for change.  In time, we find that change is inevitable, and you can only pray it’s good.

The list of what you miss lengthens with each year.  What I miss is you… and rambles in the woods.

Are you there waiting for me?  Will you meet me when I come?  Will we once more go rambling when my time here is done?



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