A Back Porch Surprise

This week Writing Prompt Wednesday was inspired by the story Gift written by Red Pen Gal using this very prompt. She is such an amazing writer! Go read her work ASAP!

Screenshot 2018-11-07 at 4.59.51 PM

I peered at it from the window as my breath frosted against the chilled pane. I tried to blink it’s presence away, first slowly and then more rapidly as the tears threatened to build. 

I wasn’t going to panic. I wasn’t going to cry. My mind told me to practice the breathing exercises I had been forced to learn, but communications with my lungs appeared to have been severed. 

It could be from the neighbor across the field. She had left an apple crisp once, which I had to throw in the garbage as the smell of it brought back memories long suppressed. I had returned the gesture with cookies. Perhaps this was another offering.

Actually, it could be from a number of people my brain raced to name names as though it was desperately trying to catch up to my racing heart. 

The Postman. What was his name? Bill? It could be from him. Just last week, I had offered him one of the pumpkins I started growing this year. This could be a token of thanks. 

“Who else? Who else?” The words actually slipped past my lips. The first set cautiously, the second with increasing panic.  

Then the part of me, the dark part, the one I had pushed deep down inside spoke up with a sickly whisper, “You know who it’s from.” 

The mere thought echoed within me, radiating out into the hollows I had carved within myself. There wasn’t a place left for it to stick. 

Courage found my fingers and I grasped the tarnished handle. The flick of my wrist coupled with the force of a life I had built from scratch brought my slippers onto the porch. 

It took three squeak filled steps and the sound of my knees cracking to bring me face to face with it. It didn’t look ominous. It was a plain brown box not even sealed with tape. All I had to do was tug at one flap. 

My breath hung within my neck like a noose as my hands edged forward. Hands which no longer looked like my own even though I could clearly see they were attached to my arms. 

One flap, then two, and as I straightened the cardboard to reveal what lay within that deep dark voice bubbled up, “What if you are looking in the wrong place?” 

 

I would like to again thank Red Pen Gal as her Writing Prompt Wednesday brought me out of a writing funk!

I hope all you literary lovelies find inspiration today no matter what it may be.

xo

Honestly Austen

Postscript: Share with me one of the highlights of your day!

 

 

 

 

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