The Games We Forgot

My grandmother once took me out to the forest at the far edge of our region. It was mid-afternoon when we arrived. We walked deep into the heart of the woods. My grandmother seemed to know the trail, and I trailed along at her ankles. She had not told me what we were there to see, nor why she wanted to go see it. She had simply put me in the car and driven me to this place. I saw the sun shine through the canopy up above as it cast its brilliant light onto the forest floor. Everything was green, yellow, and brown.

Then, we came to a clearing. In the clearing stood a circle of large mushrooms with red caps covered in white dots. Ecstatic, I threw myself into the midst of them, exploring and finding what there was to find. As I looked, I saw a small face peer out at me from behind one of the mushrooms. It was a kind face, though shy. I said some kind words to it and attempted to coax it out. I could see a little humanoid body with wings slowly come out from behind. It had sharp, beautiful features.

That’s when we began to play. I chased it round and round in circles until I simply couldn’t anymore. My grandma sat on a log and smiled as I ran. After a time, the creature went to get more, and we all played such wonderful games. We played chasing games. We played hiding games. We played climbing games. We played every game we could think of until we were tuckered out and almost asleep.

At the end of it all, the creatures went away, and my grandmother took me home. I begged her after that to take me back, but we never found the time. Now, I have forgotten where that forest is, and where those mushrooms are. I remember the games, but cannot remember all of the rules—the ones that they taught me. I long to find them again, but I cannot.

However, though I miss them often, it was not all for nothing. My memory sustains me in that bliss. The times I am the happiest are when I conjure those images back for my enjoyment. I can bask, again, in the sun’s light, though it is dimmer in my mind. I spend as much time there as I can. For I know that’s all that there is now. A memory, of a feeling, in the woods.