Garret smiled, remembering how much fun he and his friends used to have on their old block. Hanging out on his stoop, ghetto blaster blaring. There was nothing better.
The girls hung with them too, dancing together on the cracked pavement. Garret had never gotten up the courage to dance with them. Guys were “too cool” for that.
It wasn’t until college that he’d dared ask Mindy for a date. Two careers and three kids later, he was glad he had.
He shook his head sadly, looking at the ruin of his burned-out childhood home, then signed the demolition order.
I came up with the words block, stoop, and ruin on one of my walks recently. This story grew as I walked. In 100 words, we traverse childhood memories, a dream fulfilled, and a sense of loss. Please leave a comment and/or a prompt!
This line packs a ton of plot-progressing power: "Two careers and three kids later, he was glad he had."
My parents still live in the house I grew up in.