Photograph of a carnival ride in motion.The day Lucinda turned nine, her father appeared at the back door. She hadn’t seen him in two years. When she opened her mouth to speak, he put his finger to her lips. Where’s your mother? Upstairs. Come with me, he said. Let’s go to the fair. His car smelled like dirty clothes. They had one hour before the police arrived. As her mother ran toward her, black hair flying in the wind, mouth open, Lucinda turned. He was gone. She shoved the photo they had taken in the booth deep into her pocket just as her mother reached her.

Sarah Scott lives in Napa, California. She is a chef and culinary consultant and is working on a memoir about growing up in the South.

Photo Credit: Ian Sane

7 Responses to “Memento”

  1. John says:


  2. Ellyn says:

    Beautiful writing; so much said in 100 words.

  3. Maureen says:


  4. Mary Ann Stein says:

    So wonderful!

  5. DAK says:

    That’s beautiful, Sarah. I never heard this one before.

  6. Tony Press says:

    This one is really good, all of it, and I especially treasured those last sentences, beginning with “They had one hour … .”

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