Creative Writing: Small Moment Narrative

Great Essays
Small Moment Narrative
By: Simona McDonald

It had been a grey, gloomy September day from the moment the sun chose to rise. A faint wind flowed through our hair while a slight drizzle sprinkled down upon us. The lake’s chilly, dark green water came crashing down onto the beige concrete in heavy waves as we strolled along beside the water, taking in the breath-taking scenery. There had been a faint mist acting as a blanket covering the city of Chicago. Many friends and families were taking in the beautiful scenery that the city had been emitting as they strolled along the streets or maneuvered across the marinas.
My parents, siblings, and I followed the trail that lay near the rear end of the Adler Planetarium. “Maybe we should head back home,” my mother complained, “I told you we should’ve spent our Labor Day in Michigan rather than Chicago. It’s cold,
…show more content…
“Oh, no problem, man,” my dad replied, “the name’s Alton.” My father held out his hand for a handshake. “...I’m Gary.” “Nice to meet you, Gary,” I chimed in. He weakly smiled at me and clutched his hip harder. Gary seemed to be disoriented and seemed like he didn’t know where he was or what was going on. “Is it just your hip?” My Dad asked. “Uhh.. Yeah.” My mother budged in, “did you hit your head on the concrete?” Gary shook his head. I pointed out to the long cut on his forearm, “You’re bleeding.” “Oh,” he mumbled. He made a quick glance at his arm, but didn’t seem to pay much attention towards it. I studied him all over; he had frosted white hair, sky blue eyes, and wore thin-rimmed glasses. He was a scrawnier type of guy. “You’re rear brake is busted, dude,” my dad studied the bike, “I could try to temporarily fix it, but you might need to take it to a shop or get a new one. This isn’t the best type of bike to ride in weather like this.” Gary nodded. After a few moments of silence, my mom spoke again. “Let’s get you to the front of the

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