A Child of the Past

“Are you lost, little girl?”

“I... I don’t recognize this place.”

“What’s your name?”

“Clara.”

“That’s a pretty name. Do you know where you live, Clara?”

“I thought it was around here someplace.”

“Do you know your address?”

“One Sycamore Place.”

“Well, you’re on Sycamore Place but I don’t think there’s any house with the address ‘one’.”

“Are you sure?”

“Been here the better part of twenty years. In all my time, the first house on the block is 100.”

“This street is strange.”

“Oh? How so?”

“The street is so clean. And the lights inside the houses are so bright.”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed that before. Are you sure about the address?”

“And there are too many of them. The houses are so close together!”

“I’ve always thought this street had decent-sized lots without all the building right up to the property line nonsense that so many other subdivisions seem to favor. But I need you to focus, Clara. Do you remember anything else about your house?”

“It had a barn.”

“A barn? Honey, there aren’t any barns around here.”

“But I remember that oak tree. I used to play under it when it was hot outside. And there was a creek near that hill over there where I’d wash the clothes with Mother.”

“Clara, I think you’re confused. This is a suburb. There haven’t been creeks and barns and that kind of stuff since the area was first settled like two hundred years ago.”

“I’m not making this up! My family and I have lived here since we first moved out from Boston and staked our claim.”

“Clara, what year do you think it is?”

“1848.”

“Clara, this is 2018.”

“Then wh... where’s my family?”



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292 words
Prompt: write a story of 500 words or less using only dialogue about a conversation with a child that you finally realize is a ghost.

Originally written for "The Dialogue 500"  and "I Write in 2018" .