Prompts

A Story by Sarah

These are some short, twisted stories that came up to mind with some prompts me and my friend found.

1. He waited for her. As he did, he observed the decorations on the wall. Mirrors of different sizes and pictures of that time they had been backpacking in Europe decorated a big part of it. The other part was decorated by paintings and even after six years he still couldn’t help but feel disturbed by them. Naked disproportioned ladies with cats weren’t really what came to mind when he thought of art. She came back about two minutes later, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands. .

2. “I haven’t told anyone this before, but I’m going to tell you now.” The cover of the black, leather cover read in bold, golden letters. There was nothing else written in the old-looking cover, not even an author name, so I opened it. Nothing. Just blank pages that were already starting to get moldy. I flipped through some more pages in hopes I’d find something; and I did. Four pages before the end of the book was a small text written in a horrible calligraphy. “1987, S. F. This is where my short story was cut even shorter than it had supposed to be. If you’re reading this, I hope you start writing here your story because by doing so, you can help me finish mine.”

3. There were three of them. Three. I couldn’t believe myself. Van Gogh’s most known paintings were stored in this room and yet I designed a plan thinking there would be only one guard. I had thoroughly studied each and every entrance, room, hall and area of the museum’s and the only way I could get to where the rest of my team was waiting was by crossing this room and the one next to it. I had to think of a way to go unnoticed and I had to do it quick. My prints are already all over the corpse I can’t just leave it here and act as if nothing happened.

4. “Where did you find that?” I asked as she sat on the floor, careful not to touch the puzzle we had been working on all afternoon.

“Find what?” Holland asked. I pointed at her sweater, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“In your drawer.” She explained. “I was cold. Do you mind? I can put it back if you want.”

I shook my head no, but I was still confused. In my twenty years of life I had never bought anything orange because I’m not color blind and I have certainly never bought anything made out of wool. Why would I buy something that makes me itchy? We continued to arrange the puzzle, the sweater incident leaving my mind momentarily, until…

“Why is she wearing my sweater?” The all too familiar voice asked. Anger evident in his tone. It felt as if my heart came to a stop. How did I just hear the voice of someone who died?

5. “…And that was the end of it.” I finished. Alice looked at me with sad eyes and her mouth slightly opened. She patted my shoulder as she always did when she wanted to comfort someone. Someone needs to teach Alice how to comfort people but I can’t really blame her. She’s unable to feel compassion. It’s just another of her psychopath tendencies.

“Yeah. It’s sad,” I continued. “I can’t believe he broke up with me via text message.” She stayed quiet for a few seconds and then smiled at me. “Don’t be sad now. At least you got your revenge.”

I smiled at that and looked at the wall where John’s bloody shirt was hanged as a reward. “Yeah, I did.”

6. A walk in the woods helps me relax and release tension. The fact that I’m dragging a body behind me should be irrelevant. But guess what, it’s f*****g not. It’s way too heavy and way too smelly. Maybe if Alex had settled for a human body this time this wouldn’t be happening, but no. I thought him becoming a vegetarian wouldn’t affect me directly but boy was I wrong. How could I ever think he’d have some consideration with me? I’m used to the weight of humans, after 724 years it’s like carrying an ant. Trolls, instead. It’s like dragging a house with overweight people in it. Gosh, people expect so much from you when you’re a satyr who constantly goes to the gym.

7. I remember when in middle school we learned about mythical creatures. It was by far, the most interesting class I ever received. I remember how Mrs. Geller literally worshipped mermaids, at the time I thought it was naïve but now that I think about it, I feel like she saw them as some type of mythological feminism icons. Since they lure men into their death by singing and stuff. If only it was that simple. If I could just sing and have them death minutes later. But here I am, covered in this little b***h’s blood and carrying his 250 pounds in my boat as three mermaids laugh at me because they could’ve done the same thing in three minutes or less. Well guess what mermaids; life isn’t that simple for all of us. F**k.

8. Write a letter to the president without mentioning politics. Hello Mr. President. I know this is not how most people who contact you�"if any people do contact you�"start their letters, but I’ve never written to you so if something sounds rude, please know I didn’t meant for it to happen. Anyways. I’m writing to you because I realized I voted for you without knowing the littlest detail about your life. And that’s unacceptable. How can a man rule the country in which I live if I don’t even know his freaking favorite foreign food? So I’d just like to know. What IS your favorite foreign food? Why? What’s your favorite drink? What’s your zodiac sign? When is your mom’s birthday? Tea or coffee? Do you watch Games of Thrones? Please answer these, and if you have any other question you’d like to answer, please do. Okay, have a good night now. With love, a concerned citizen.

9. Describe a snowy day from a snowflakes point of view. I can’t see anything from this f*****g tree. All I know is that way too many people came to work today. I prefer being alone. I’m different from all my friends. I’d never tell them this but I actually like those giants in the ridiculous clothes. Everyone else just prefers to stay in front of the giant’s houses, in an attempt to block the entrances so they can’t come out and turn us into balls. But I love being part of the balls; I love that feeling when they throw us at someone. I just really f**k love balls. There are so many giants out today because there’s so many of us out today and I’m sitting on top of this tree branch, unable to come down and play and that makes me sad. I know I could just come down but I’m scared of heights. I guess I’ll wait until tomorrow to be made part of a ball. I love balls.

10. Describe a snowy day from a tress point of view. I’ve been laughing all god damn morning. It snowed a lot last night, and this b***h has been shoveling his yard, the yard in which I happen to live all morning. Every time the f****r thinks he’s done shoveling, I shake again and all the snowflakes on me fall down into his backyard and he has to start shoveling again. He has called me a m**********r three times already and it just gets funnier. Stupid b***h. Should’ve thought about the consequences when you let your ugly, annoying, messy, loud a*s children throw snowballs at me for an entire day. My leaves are not f*****g targets. Wait. I feel something. F**k yes, it’s snowing again. Yes. Take that b***h. Should’ve thought about twice when you decided to leave Florida and move to Colorado. How bad do you miss the sun now?

11. Why is Batman wearing a Speedo? This is a costume party. Gary is always trying to exhibit himself in some type of way. I told him to be creative but I didn’t think he’d show up in a batman mask and a speedo. Also, it’s winter and he has to take the subway. It’s November 16^th in Illinois. Whata re people going to think? Did he not think this through? How can he fight The Joker in a speedo? As I ask myself this question, the bell rings and I go to the door. I open it. I feel like shooting myself. Jason decided to show up, in the Joker’s makeup, wearing a green speedo. I let him in but first, I promise myself never to organize a gay costume party in my apartment. Ever again.