Prompt: From generation to generation, a box has been passed down with strict instructions not to open it until a certain date. That date is today. What’s inside the box?
OPEN DEC. 31, 1999 was scratched clumsily into the tin box’s lid that had rusted shut decades before.
“How long did Gramps have it?” Pam asked.
“Don’t know. He got it from his mother and she—”
“It’s been a while,” Mother said brandishing a screwdriver.
Prying the lid loose, they collectively held their breath. Pam removed it.
Inside were petrified cookies.
“Why would anyone want this saved?” Pam asked, banging a cookie against the table.
Her mother scrutinized the date on the lid. “I think… this… was supposed to be an eight,” she pointed at the first malformed nine.
Prompt: “And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding— Riding—riding— A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.” (to be paired with whatever strikes your fancy)
“Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair,” Lucy finished to the applause of her class.
“Impressive, Ms. Skye,” Professor Diamond commended her as Lucy took her seat at the only empty desk in the classroom. “However, in future, please keep your selections to about the length of a sonnet. I don’t want to get rid of my late arrival policy because you choose poems long enough to waste additional minutes of class time. Or perhaps your classmates would prefer I schedule an additional class or online assignment to make up the difference.”
Lucy suppressed her self-satisfied smile.
Only 100 words instead of 500, I’ve started dabbling in drabbles and might be posting some here to get back into posting some of my creative fiction. Most of these are inspired by specific prompts which I’ll also post for reference (and feel free to comment with additional suggestions/prompts, etc.).
Prompt: A pair of plane tickets but only one is round trip.
“You can have the window seat,” Mom insisted. “I’ve got it all to myself on the way home.”
She said it as a joke but neither of us laughed. She would fly home alone while I stayed behind on campus, thousands of miles from everyone and everything I knew.
The airline called our section and we rose to board.
“It’s not that long till Thanksgiving,” I said, trying to sound optimistic as I handed over my one-way boarding pass. Mom held out her round-trip boarding pass for scanning.
“I’ll start looking at the airline rates on the plane,” Mom promised.