Into the Woods by Monica Brinkman


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“Wait for me Sissy”!

Sissy Jones looked back to see her little brother stumbling through the tall rock laden grass. She ceased her walk and hollered back, “Hurry up Timothy or we’ll miss finding them.” The young boy smiled and huffed his way to his sister.

The sight of his blonde locks, now wet from the humid heat of the summer softened her reserve. “It’s okay Timmy, you catch your breath. We still have time. Here drink this.”

Without hesitation Timmy gulped down the entire contents of the thermos and wiped the cool water from his mouth with his right hand. “Thanks Sissy, I sure needed that.”

“I guess you did cause now we don’t have any water left for later. I don’t want to hear any complaining about how hot and thirsty you are. Geez. You didn’t have to hog it all.”

Sissy felt bad as soon as the words left her mouth. She kept forgetting how young Timmy was and that he hadn’t learned yet to think about the next person in line. She patted him on the head. “Come on, we better get going if we want to find any arrow heads.”

She took Timmy’s hand and led him into the woods, noticing the temperature dropped considerably from the shade of the multitude of trees surrounding them. It was a natural gift from nature; one she appreciated on such hot humid days. Soon, the sound of water traveling over rock covered ground could be heard; she knew they were near and her excitement rose.

“We’re almost there.”

Hearing his sisters’ words, Timmy let go of her hand and raced ahead to the river’s bed. He waited, knowing better than to enter the water until Sissy joined him. It only took a moment and there she was, at his side.

“Look at the little frogs. Aren’t they cute? Sissy squealed and circled the water with her fingertips, watching as the frogs swam for perceived safety.

Sissy adored frogs and was delighted to see the tadpoles swishing their tiny forms and swimming among the small frogs. Surely many would not make it, but there would be enough to keep the species populated. She noticed Timmy was bent over the edge scooping up mud and grassy soil, seeking those arrowheads and artifacts from the Neshaminy Indians who had lived in this woods for decades before them.

The woods was always magical. Silent yet boasting the rustle of birds, reptiles and insects for those who hesitate long enough to listen. Ah, it was the time of her life and Sissy revealed in it, taking in the richness of life, the simplicity of moment, never anticipating what would come next; experiencing what was happening now.



His white lab coat rustled as he approached the silver-haired woman and spoke to his assistant. “You know, Fleckner, it never ceases to amaze me how peaceful and happy she appears. Don’t know that I’ve seen her without a smile on that wrinkled face. Whatever could it be that holds her in such a state?”

Adam Fleckner nodded. “Alzheimer’s is sadly still quite a mystery to us. I suppose it is merely her reflexes and nothing more. Sissy cannot speak or hear us, or if she can do so, she surely has not given us a sign. It is sad, this disease.”

The two doctors walked pass Sissy Jones who continued to laugh, smile and find joy as she experienced the past, or perhaps to her, it was the present.


Monica Brinkman writes stories of life, the paranormal, horror and suspense. Visit her web-site @

And radio web-site:

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8 thoughts on “Into the Woods by Monica Brinkman

  1. Clayton Bye Post author

    A lovely story Monica. I knew a twist was coming, but I would never have guessed what it actually was. I like that a lot.

  2. Kenneth Weene

    Most of us fear grwoing old and losing our awareness of the moment, but for those who have buit a library of happy memories, living in the past may be a wonderful option. Thanks, Monica, for reminding us that today we are building the wonder and joy that will sustain us tomorrow.

  3. Trish

    The story brought tears to my eyes. What a lovely way to look at Alzheimer’s, and very feasible. We really don’t know what goes on in the mind of someone afflicted with the disease. It’s a lot sadder for the loved ones than it is for the actual sufferer.

  4. John B. Rosenman

    Yes, this is a lovely story, Monica. Precious memories can live forever and provide relief and solace. Though she has Alzheimer’s, in her mind Sissy is forever young and in her beloved woods. This story reminds me of my mother, who suffered a similar fate. One day my sister leaned over her and asked, “Mother, are you in there?” I’ll never know, but I hope like Sissy she was reliving beautiful memories.

  5. Monica Brinkman

    Thank you all for your kind words. I often think of Pink Floyd’s song that says, “When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look , but it is gone, I cannot put my finger on it now, the child has grown, the dream is gone.”
    And then wondered, what if that dream is there all the time and we can get caught in it whenever we wish.

    Love to you all.

  6. Micki Peluso

    Monica, what a wonderful way to portray the agonies of Alzheimer. My 99 year old Mom-in-law has dementia and in the beginning she knew it and tried to hide it, cover it up. As it progresses she is still annoyed at not remembering but now no longer remembers that she can’t remember. It breaks my heart. Yet on a good day I can talk to her on the phone as I do every day and she can go back to the long ago past and remember clearly the days of her childhood. And then an hour later call me, saying she is so lonely and by then no longer remember that we ever spoke. I cry again.

    Worse I can actually experience some of what she goes through with the Lyme disease, which when active imitates MS and dementia. I see chunks of memory leaving and it terrifies me, because if I can’t stop its progression, one day it will turn into permanent dementia–which God willing, I won’t remember.


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