10 minutes to write a story based off the prompt. When the time runs up you must write the ending as quickly as possible.
“An eruption of presents was all that could be seen.” Credit to M for coming up with this and many other creative winter writing prompts. As promised, here is my story.
As I walk down the stairs of the empty apartment, I’m shocked to notice color outside of the dull grey I’m used to. The walls are painted a faint, yet inviting yellow, the wooden floor a lightly polished comforting brown. And as I look up, light coming from the window shone off the tower of boxes, reflecting the rapper paper, sending sparkles all over the room.
An eruption of presents was all that could be seen. Standing five feet tall from wall to wall, the view was impeccable. I ran with my 8 year old legs to the pile, grabbing the first box I could hardly being able to help myself from ripping it open. “Yes! A Spider Man!” I could not believe my eyes or anything else. “I have to show Michael!” I grabbed my brand new toy and headed to the stairs.
I took the steps two at a time, until the last step when my toes, barely covered with my hole-y socks, hit the stair on the front instead of the top. I went sprawling, hands so tight around the newly unwrapped Spider Man figure, as not to lose it, that I didn’t have time to catch myself as I fell. Wasn’t able to catch myself before my head hit the ground with a thud, and Spider Man bounced down the stairs.
Slowly, I try to sit up, my head spinning. I look back down the stairs and see where the stack of presents once was, a lone, unwrapped box. I glance down the stairs and see Spider Man still lying there. I turn as a door down the hall opens.
“Merry Christmas buddy. I take it you saw my present?”
“Oh Michael it’s the best gift ever!”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything more, but we don’t exactly have money to be spending on everything. Shouldn’t even be here in the first place.” But I don’t care about the abandoned musty apartment. All I care about is Michael.
I run to him, thrusting my arms around him. “Merry Christmas to you too Michael. There’s nothing else I need.”
Stories written like this have pros on cons. On the one hand, the limited time keeps you from going back, rewriting, or having to deal with plot holes, which is bittersweet.
While it slightly lessens the quality of the story initially, it also makes it more natural and real. When you aren’t worrying so much about how you say what you say, the story line comes a lot quicker. That said I’m not sure how this story turned out.
Also, I’m on vacation atm so I’m writing this on my phone so I have no idea how long this will be in comparison to the others. Happy Holidays. I think I said that in the last post, but you can’t hear it too much.