Rebecca Morton
Bio
My childhood was surrounded by theatre people. My adulthood has been surrounded by children! You can also find me on Medium here: https://medium.com/@becklesjm, and now I have a Substack newsletter at https://rebeccamorton.substack.com/
Stories (64/0)
When My Mother Gave Away My Barbie Dolls
I was twelve years old and nearing the end of sixth grade when I walked home from school, up the stairs, into my bedroom, and opened my closet door to a puzzling sight. All my Barbie dolls, their wardrobe cases, their home, car, swimming pool, camper, and airplane were GONE!
By Rebecca Mortonabout a year ago in Confessions
Mission: Pretend My Dad is a Beatle in 1964
This is my entry for the Time Traveler Challenge: At least I work in the infant room", I thought, "so if I lose my job, the babies won't exactly be wondering where I've gone. Or will they? What about that Charles? He seems to be an extraordinarily bright little guy. Maybe they'll let me visit them after I'm fired. Or what if I disappear before they can fire me?"
By Rebecca Mortonabout a year ago in Fiction
A Letter From Your Daycare Teacher
Dear former day care child, If you were born between 1985 and 1991, I may have been your day care teacher. I may have been a grownup who spent more hours a week with you than any parent, guardian, sibling, or extended family member when you were between the ages of two and four years old.
By Rebecca Mortonabout a year ago in Education
Nightmare at the Video Store
I know Quentin Tarantino was inspired to become one of the world’s greatest filmmakers when he worked at a video rental store in the 1980s, but if he had to work in the store where I worked in 1989, he may not have been so inspired.
By Rebecca Mortonabout a year ago in Journal
They Talk to the Tattletale Fairy
This is my entry for the "If Walls Could Talk" Challenge: "If walls could talk, they would tell quite a tale", is something I've heard, but only part of that is true. We can talk, but not with speech. Anytime a picture or anything else stuck to a wall falls down for no reason, that is most likely the wall trying to say something.
By Rebecca Mortonabout a year ago in Fiction
Candy from the Popcorn Wagon
It was called the “Popcorn Wagon”, because that’s what the large sign over the window said. It was a stationary, red painted circus wagon which was a fixture at the edge of a road one block up from my block every summer, and ONLY in the summer. It had one window on the side which faced the perpetual line of children every evening until after the streetlights went on. I don’t recall it being open any time but the evening.
By Rebecca Morton2 years ago in Families