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charisstomaTitle: Sometimes the day begins with nothing to look forward to
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 100
Prompt: Who will save us from the rabbitsplunnys
A dull feeling pressed the air and the sky was a smooth leaden sheet that desired to wrap smotheringly around you, ominous and heavy.
Numbly Jack gazed out the window. Nothing good came from days like this, filled with empty promises of little but waiting. A drink would help, he thought and repressed a shudder, remembering his uncleâs life pulling towards that next drink. That wasnât the path heâd choose.
A bright red and blue on white postal truck hummed to a stop and the doorbell chimed.
Upon the doorstep, a box patiently waited for him to release its contents.
****
Title: Terrible fates are inevitable
Word count: 100
Prompt: Sometimes you just donât know what you are supposed to do
He read the address label stuck firmly to the box under its plethora of gaudy stamps and their cancellations. The ink was smudged but it looked like Wales had been the boxâs starting point. Did he dare open the cardboard flaps.
The sullen atmosphere told him to contemplate his actions. Waiting was prudent. Itâs not as if any living thing was enclosed, thereâd be holes for air. The box was sealed up tight as if to prevent any escaping.
Perhaps a small hole to peek through wouldnât hurt. He pealed up a corner and recoiled as vaporous toothy shapes emerged.
***
Title: Sometimes you just donât know where you are
Word count: 100
Prompt: Or who you are meant to be
Hastily stepping back, Jack considered and opted for hiding behind the sofa, wisely keeping watch of the vaporous small âthingsâ that had been inside the box. They wafted around as if uncertain at first, then catching sight of their surroundings, coalesced to fall with soft plops onto the carpet.
They didnât look terribly frightening with rounded shapes and what could be termed cute little ears barely discernible from their covering fluff. How could anything so sweet looking be dangerous, he thought.
Warily eyeing the tentative hand reaching toward them, the plunnys gazed upon their writer and remembered what to do.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 100
Prompt: Who will save us from the rabbits
A dull feeling pressed the air and the sky was a smooth leaden sheet that desired to wrap smotheringly around you, ominous and heavy.
Numbly Jack gazed out the window. Nothing good came from days like this, filled with empty promises of little but waiting. A drink would help, he thought and repressed a shudder, remembering his uncleâs life pulling towards that next drink. That wasnât the path heâd choose.
A bright red and blue on white postal truck hummed to a stop and the doorbell chimed.
Upon the doorstep, a box patiently waited for him to release its contents.
Title: Terrible fates are inevitable
Word count: 100
Prompt: Sometimes you just donât know what you are supposed to do
He read the address label stuck firmly to the box under its plethora of gaudy stamps and their cancellations. The ink was smudged but it looked like Wales had been the boxâs starting point. Did he dare open the cardboard flaps.
The sullen atmosphere told him to contemplate his actions. Waiting was prudent. Itâs not as if any living thing was enclosed, thereâd be holes for air. The box was sealed up tight as if to prevent any escaping.
Perhaps a small hole to peek through wouldnât hurt. He pealed up a corner and recoiled as vaporous toothy shapes emerged.
Title: Sometimes you just donât know where you are
Word count: 100
Prompt: Or who you are meant to be
Hastily stepping back, Jack considered and opted for hiding behind the sofa, wisely keeping watch of the vaporous small âthingsâ that had been inside the box. They wafted around as if uncertain at first, then catching sight of their surroundings, coalesced to fall with soft plops onto the carpet.
They didnât look terribly frightening with rounded shapes and what could be termed cute little ears barely discernible from their covering fluff. How could anything so sweet looking be dangerous, he thought.
Warily eyeing the tentative hand reaching toward them, the plunnys gazed upon their writer and remembered what to do.
