Words from a Reader

The “Writing Life Stories” e-mails I receive are such treasures. As soon as I see there is one in my inbox, I read it immediately. I look forward to them and never know how they will touch me. They can be interesting, informative, humorous, and/or touching.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

A Writing Exercise

I am going to share a short, short story I wrote for an online writing class. We were given a line and were to write the story in fifteen minutes. I love these kinds of prompts because I can let my imagination run wild for just a few minutes and see what comes out of it. Let me know what you think.

I am lying in bed, alone while my husband is out of town, half asleep after a long day at work. I turn out my bedside lamp and snuggle down into my pillow. Suddenly, I hear a CRASH from downstairs. My heart racing, I creep to the top of the stairs, where I see Major, our bob-tailed cat, on top of the mantel, every hair standing on end.


Scamp, our eleven year old dog, usually sound asleep by nine o’clock every night, stands in the middle of the room, the glow from the nightlight I leave on for him, shows something in the corner of the sofa. What in the world? I’m not sure what has happened, but Major is certainly unhappy.

Scamp is not barking. I run back and grab a flashlight I keep in the drawer of my nightstand, hurry down the stairs just far enough that I can shine my light on the sofa. Two large eyes look up at me, like two embers sparking in the dark.

The strange creature doesn’t run. I suppose that’s why Scamp isn’t excited about it sitting on the couch. I slip down closer to get a better look and try to figure how I am going to chase the creature from my house. What if it fights and won’t run? What if it hides and won’t come out?

I call Scamp’s name. He glances up at me. Then, as if he suddenly remembers he is supposed to be protecting the house, he barks, loud and long.

Before I can get a good look, a streak of grey fur leaps from the sofa, shoots into the kitchen with Scamp in hot pursuit. I scurry behind my dog and catch a glimpse of a wide fuzzy tail with black rings disappearing through the pet door.

I am not completely relieved as I grab Scamp’s collar and lead him back to bed. Our night visitor is gone, but I have a feeling he’ll be back.

Written fall of 2008 by Glenda Beall

3 comments:

  1. You had me going for a bit! Good thing is was just a racoon!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Merry Christmas, Joan. Have fun in the mountains.
    Yes, what might it have been if not a racoon?

    ReplyDelete

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