Sometimes, all it takes is a sound to send me spiralling back to childhood—a single, grinding noise that stops me in my tracks and holds me in place. For me, it’s the sound of a boat winch. That mechanical clatter of a boat being dragged out of the water and onto its trailer is more than just noise. It’s a trigger, a time machine.
It takes me straight back to days spent fishing with my father. Early morning starts, the smell of salt and bait, the hum of the outboard motor. We’d talk, or not talk, casting lines into quiet water, the hours slipping past with the tide. And then, inevitably, the winch. That sound meant it was over—the lines were in, the boat was out, and the day had come to an end.
Even now, as an adult, my heart beats a little faster when I hear that sound. It’s comforting and melancholy all at once. I can’t decide if it makes me sad because the memory marks the end of something beautiful, or happy because it happened at all. It holds me frozen in time for a few seconds, every time. Nothing else matters until the noise fades.
I wonder if you have something like that? A sound, a smell, or even a turn of phrase that brings your past rushing back and forces everything else to pause? It’s strange how those moments—so small at the time—carve themselves so deeply into us. They stay buried until something ordinary stirs them back to life.
What stops your world for a moment?
-Michael (Author of SEETHINGS, downloadable and free for a limited time. This fishing tale made it into the story.)
Discover more from Michael Forman – Author of Dark Fiction & Drama
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