This story is written in response to an innovative challenging contest from @tristancarax and you can find the information about the challenge here. The prompt for the story's theme is "improving memory" and there are very specific instructions on how the story must be constructed. There are exactly 31 sentences in the story and each sentence is a predetermined number of words. Here is my entry:

Memory Lane

My mind is crowded with bad childhood memories and I know that there must have been good times growing up but there is simply not enough room to retain them. What can I do? No one wants to have their memories dominated by only the violently bad things. I think the trick might be to really concentrate on looking back and finding at least one happy family time to start. The trick is to find one.

How about the time my dad brought home a pony? Wait, won’t work. Now that I think about it more clearly, I remember that the pony was a little bit wild and frightened from his travels to our house and he kicked at Dad. And Dad, being intoxicated as usual and quick to show his temper, punched the pony's right shoulder. The pony jerked his halter out of Dad's hand and took off galloping across the pasture, which made both my little brother and I burst into tears. Not good. If there was one consistent thing that was guaranteed to send Dad into a further rage, it was any of us bursting into tears.

Okay, that memory won't work, what else can I dredge up from within my brain vault? My family was always deeply strapped financially when I was growing up but I remember one time that we all took a trip to the Illinois State Fair. We set off with expectations of a good time. The trip was about seventy-five miles to get there and I remember being very excited to experience the carnival rides. My brother and I were struck with wide-eyed wonder at the huge crowd having fun. But the fun was not for us. Instead of heading for the section of the fair that contained all the rides, we were herded to the beer tent! We sat there until the afternoon waned, and the discretionary money was gone.

This is even harder than I had thought. Well, let me look back for a good Christmas memory then, because even though we were poor, there were gifts and family dinners with favorite relatives. The problem is that there were bad ones of those as well. Ugh. And that's exactly what I'm trying to overcome here - that the bad memories are so powerful and vivid that they outrank the ordinary good times.

There was one good Christmas though that I can remember where my grandmother came and spent the night with us on Christmas Eve. I suppose that Dad was on his better behavior since his mother was present, so consequently, no drinking that night. Uncle Max and Aunt Mary came for Christmas dinner and we sat around the table and played Monopoly. I remember that we laughed and had fun and there were no temper outbursts or angry words spoken and I wished that it could always be just like that.

I'd rather remember happy Christmas memories with my own two children. Let the past stay buried.