In Honor of . . .
March 2, 2017 celebrated World Book Day, at least in the UK and Ireland. And on that day, S. B. posted a nice little writing prompt that urged me (and everyone else) to look at the third book shelf, second book, 17th page of that book. I took the first sentence from the book I found, and used it as a writing prompt. And because I believe in full disclosure, I'm including exactly what book I used and where I found it. Don't be shocked at the messiness that has become our "library" book shelf.
What drivel did I come up with? Read on . . .
At this moment, Lucy and Edmund both sneezed. Coincidence, or something else? Mother thought. It seemed to her that more and more these days, Lucy and Edmund performed exactly the same actions at exactly the same time. That behavior might have been explained if they were identical twins. She had heard that happening with the Jones twins up the street. But two kids, four years apart? What in the world?
"Bless you both," Mother said. "Are you catching a cold?"
"Nope," the kids said, in unison.
Mother shook her head and smiled. "Are you trying to bother me?"
"Nope." Again, the voices chirped in at exactly the same moment, and this time, it was almost difficult to tell which voice belonged to which child.
"Okay then. Would you like some tea?"
Neither child answered their mother, who had been studiously inspecting the rows she just knitted in a scarf made for Papa. She lifted her head and looked at her children. Just moments before the sneeze, the pair had been sitting in the large bay window of their living room, playing cards as the sunshine filtered through the curtains. But now . . .
Mother's heart thumped in her chest and her hand flew to her mouth. "What?"
"What's wrong, Mother?"
Two voices, intertwined and eerily harmonic, reached Mother's ears as she sat and stared at her children. They flickered in the light, as if their bodies were no longer tangible . . . like the holograms they saw on an old Doctor Who episode.
Mother sat up straight in her chair. "Lucy! Edmund! Are you okay?" She threw her knitting to the floor and rushed to the window. In the two seconds it took for her to get to the children, they were gone . . .
That's it, my friends. I have nothing else to add, and sometimes, that's what happens when you take a prompt and go with it. If I think of anything else, I'll be sure to update this post.
(Oddly enough, the entire world does not celebrate World Book Day on the same day. Here in the US, we don't celebrate until April 23. Which means I have that much time to finish up the rest of that story. Maybe.)
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| Third shelf is the haphazard place we keep library books. |
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| Eureka! A great find for the 2nd book. |
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| And here we have it, the first sentence... |
At this moment, Lucy and Edmund both sneezed. Coincidence, or something else? Mother thought. It seemed to her that more and more these days, Lucy and Edmund performed exactly the same actions at exactly the same time. That behavior might have been explained if they were identical twins. She had heard that happening with the Jones twins up the street. But two kids, four years apart? What in the world?
"Bless you both," Mother said. "Are you catching a cold?"
"Nope," the kids said, in unison.
Mother shook her head and smiled. "Are you trying to bother me?"
"Nope." Again, the voices chirped in at exactly the same moment, and this time, it was almost difficult to tell which voice belonged to which child.
"Okay then. Would you like some tea?"
Neither child answered their mother, who had been studiously inspecting the rows she just knitted in a scarf made for Papa. She lifted her head and looked at her children. Just moments before the sneeze, the pair had been sitting in the large bay window of their living room, playing cards as the sunshine filtered through the curtains. But now . . .
Mother's heart thumped in her chest and her hand flew to her mouth. "What?"
"What's wrong, Mother?"
Two voices, intertwined and eerily harmonic, reached Mother's ears as she sat and stared at her children. They flickered in the light, as if their bodies were no longer tangible . . . like the holograms they saw on an old Doctor Who episode.
Mother sat up straight in her chair. "Lucy! Edmund! Are you okay?" She threw her knitting to the floor and rushed to the window. In the two seconds it took for her to get to the children, they were gone . . .
That's it, my friends. I have nothing else to add, and sometimes, that's what happens when you take a prompt and go with it. If I think of anything else, I'll be sure to update this post.
(Oddly enough, the entire world does not celebrate World Book Day on the same day. Here in the US, we don't celebrate until April 23. Which means I have that much time to finish up the rest of that story. Maybe.)
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