Rusted at the corner with the door warped by years of use, the mailbox sat atop a weathered post looking somewhat forlorn in the fading afternoon sun. A screen door shut with a soft “whap.” The spring that door wasn’t what it once was either. Footfalls, more of a shuffle than true steps crept down the stone pavers to the dirt road and stopped at the mailbox. The hinges creaked as the door opened and a wrinkled, arthritic hand reached inside. The shuffle-step of life-worn feet returned to the house and once more, the screen door snapped shut. The mail dropped on the seat of a padded rocker that looked jerked from the screenshots of a bad sitcom as the woman went to retrieve a glass of sweet tea and a couple of cookies. The movements were so fluid, even in the jerking actions of age and feebleness, that their routine was clearly evident. The hand reached for the assortment of envelopes, catalogs, and flyers and grasped them as she lowered herself into the chair with speed that would be called anything but that. The first envelope contained the assurance that if her number was the winning number, she had already won millions of dollars in the Tri-County News Group’s Sweepstakes. She read every word and then tossed it. One envelope was a political plea for support on some measure regarding the roads and a request for financial support from a candidate she wouldn’t vote for. No siree. His granddaddy had appropriated class funds back in ’47 and you just couldn’t trust one of those Willis’. Still, she devoured every word before relegating it to the waste bin. (Timer stopped here)
I'm posting the finished story on my blog tomorrow. Thanks. I've never done a writing prompt before. It was intriguing for me.
We went to NYC this weekend and one place we went was the Economy Candy Store. The adults were as excited as the children. As soon as we walked in, everyone scattered, searching for their favorite candies. I was looking for Ritter Sport Chocolate Rum Raisin.
We were as packed in the isles as the candy was packed on the shelves. I asked other parents to be on the search for my chocolate, but then I was completely side-tracked by a small round tin. My mouth dropped open and then I smiled like a child. There on the bottom shelf were little tins of hard candy like the one I had as a child in Italy.
My favorite flavor was orange and I remembered that the little orange-shaped candies were coated in powdered sugar. I picked the familiar tin and fond memories of the Italian market came back to me. I did find some Ritter chocolates, but not Rum Raisin, but that was okay because I had found something even better -- a sweet memory.
Rusted at the corner with the door warped by years of use, the mailbox sat atop a weathered post looking somewhat forlorn in the fading afternoon sun. A screen door shut with a soft “whap.” The spring that door wasn’t what it once was either. Footfalls, more of a shuffle than true steps crept down the stone pavers to the dirt road and stopped at the mailbox. The hinges creaked as the door opened and a wrinkled, arthritic hand reached inside.
ReplyDeleteThe shuffle-step of life-worn feet returned to the house and once more, the screen door snapped shut. The mail dropped on the seat of a padded rocker that looked jerked from the screenshots of a bad sitcom as the woman went to retrieve a glass of sweet tea and a couple of cookies. The movements were so fluid, even in the jerking actions of age and feebleness, that their routine was clearly evident.
The hand reached for the assortment of envelopes, catalogs, and flyers and grasped them as she lowered herself into the chair with speed that would be called anything but that. The first envelope contained the assurance that if her number was the winning number, she had already won millions of dollars in the Tri-County News Group’s Sweepstakes. She read every word and then tossed it.
One envelope was a political plea for support on some measure regarding the roads and a request for financial support from a candidate she wouldn’t vote for. No siree. His granddaddy had appropriated class funds back in ’47 and you just couldn’t trust one of those Willis’. Still, she devoured every word before relegating it to the waste bin. (Timer stopped here)
I'm posting the finished story on my blog tomorrow. Thanks. I've never done a writing prompt before. It was intriguing for me.
Chautona,
DeleteI love writing prompts! I wish I had more time to do them. I'm so glad you tried one. It is a great way to keep the creative juices flowing!
Here is my writing for the prompt:
ReplyDeleteCandy Shopping
We went to NYC this weekend and one place we went was the Economy Candy Store. The adults were as excited as the children. As soon as we walked in, everyone scattered, searching for their favorite candies. I was looking for Ritter Sport Chocolate Rum Raisin.
We were as packed in the isles as the candy was packed on the shelves. I asked other parents to be on the search for my chocolate, but then I was completely side-tracked by a small round tin. My mouth dropped open and then I smiled like a child. There on the bottom shelf were little tins of hard candy like the one I had as a child in Italy.
My favorite flavor was orange and I remembered that the little orange-shaped candies were coated in powdered sugar. I picked the familiar tin and fond memories of the Italian market came back to me. I did find some Ritter chocolates, but not Rum Raisin, but that was okay because I had found something even better -- a sweet memory.