For an explanation of what's happening here, please visit THIS BLOG POST. If you choose to participate, make sure you sign up to join the community so you can share your work with us (not a requirement, of course, but that's the fun of it!).
Prompt Rules:
- Using the above image, write something.
- 250 words shall be your limit and the limit of your words shall be 250.
- Any style. Any Genre.
- No smashing the stories. We are not here to crush each other. We are here to help each other fly as best we can.
- That includes your own story. We are all learning and getting better. This is part of it.
Post your story on your own web place then post the link here so we may ooh and aah over it with great appreciation. If you don't have your own web place, post your story here, but please keep to the 250-word limit. And get yourself a web place. Own your words!
Without further ado, here is my fun for the week!
The leatherbound book lay unassumingly on the shelf, the edges of the paper dyed a pleasant, inviting pink. The spine was blank, encouraging the curious to inquire within, and Davie was, in fact, quite curious.
He toddled toward the shelf, daring to get closer to the book his grandfather had just moments ago advised him never to touch. Well, perhaps "advised" is a bit too casual. It was more like a warning. And what Davie's grandfather had yet to learn about his young grandson was that, even at a mere 3 years old, he viewed warnings as challenges.
When Davie's grandfather left the room for a restroom break, Davie took the chance to see why the antique was "hands-off." What could possibly be in those pages besides information? Or maybe it was one of those storybooks that his mother read to him at night. That must have been it. His grandfather didn't want him to look inside because it was a surprise for him!
Swiveling his head to look behind him, he made sure his grandfather wasn't on his way back. When he felt sufficiently safe, he ran his hands along the smooth leather, his tiny fingers dwarfed by the tome's size. He flipped the lid, some of the first few pages flipping with it, and suddenly Davie was gone, disappeared without a sound.
Davie's grandfather walked in, saw the open book and the lack of Davie. He sighed, walked to the corner of the room and pulled a sword from the umbrella stand that was sitting there. Calling out to his wife who was in another room, he yelled, "Martha! Time to go back into the book!"
The End.
I ended up writing just a hair over 250 words, but I'm still going to call it a win.
Peace.
Stef.
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