It’s September! I love this month! And I’m working very hard to get the draft of my third novel sent to my editor by the end of this month! (Wish me luck!)
If you’re here for this month’s short story prompt:
After my father’s stroke, he started crying all the time. He cried about everything: sentimental commercials, pop songs on the radio, or…
Complete the Story
Now go get writing!
Happy reading and writing today and everyday!
May 2019 short story
Today
He sprinted away, not daring to look back, his footsteps echoing down the hallway like distant gunshots. He just had to get to the back stairway and up to his office on the second floor, where like a fool, he’d left the artifact sitting.
Two weeks ago
The dig was going well. So far, they’d found several fossils, no complete skeletons, but those were rare finds anyway. Still, this dig would probably secure his grant money for at least five more years.
He was looking over the labels and cataloging that his students and summer interns had completed this week. They already had three crates to send back to the university.
He was impressed with the efficiency of his team this year. He’d be giving out a lot of recommendation letters. He was thinking about taking some time to pack this afternoon to avoid the rush that would happen tomorrow morning as they were leaving when he heard a lot of shouting.
Today
As he got closer to this office, he heard boots coming up the stairs – lots of boots. He decided to pick up his pace. He didn’t want the artifact in the wrong hands and he wasn’t sure who would come bursting through that door – CIA, FBI, NSA, or one of the sketchier people who were aware of and interested in his find.
Two weeks ago
“Dr. Cooper! Dr. Cooper!” There were fifteen grad students and interns shouting his name and running towards him.
When the first one spotted him, they all bee-lined for him and forced him to the final dig spot they’d been finishing up that day.
“Tony, what is going on?” he asked.
“Dr. Cooper, you aren’t going to believe this.” Tony stepped out of the way and all the others stopped talking and shoving each other. They were outside, in the Montana wilderness, but you could have heard a pin drop.
Today
He began fishing his keys out of his pocket, but never made it to the door. He was surrounded by men wearing a lot of black, armed to the teeth, and all of them following silent orders given through headsets. He was handcuffed and led away from his office with brutal professionalism.
Two weeks ago
There in the ground was a metal egg about the size of a basketball. It was all black and perfectly smooth. It didn’t actually look like any egg he’d ever seen or heard of. And there was something so perfect about it, that he knew there was no way it was a shaped rock or gem.
“Why didn’t it show up on our scans?” He started to edge towards it. It beeped. “What the hell?” He reached out to touch it. It was metal and cool to the touch and now it was beeping.
Without looking up, he said, “Get a crate with lots of padding.”
No one moved.
“Someone. Go. Now.”
A group of students and interns ran off and returned several minutes later with a crate.
As he carefully placed the egg in the crate, the beeping stopped.
Two days later he was back in his office; he’d spent all his time with the egg since returning. He let Tony deal with unloading and arranging the rest of the dig finds.
The office secretary came rushing in.
“There are several angry men in suits here to see you.”
He had a feeling this might happen. Several of the students from the dig site posted video and images on the night the egg was discovered.
The last two days had been the most exciting days of his life. He didn’t want it to end.
The egg beeped off and on the entire time it’d been at the university. They had scanned it and ran it through every test they could think of. Nothing changed about the egg, and it didn’t do anything other than beep. Despite this, he just knew that something was going to happen. This egg meant something. It was something important, and he wanted to be the one to figure it out.
It was new and exciting – or possibly old and exciting. Everyone would be interested in figuring out exactly what it was.
Looking back, it could have gone either way. It didn’t work out, which makes it look like fate, or a stupid decision, or both. But at the time, I did have a few things in my favor. I had ….
my freedom and what I thought was a bright future ahead of me. Instead of a thrilling city, I ended up back at home, living with my mom and dad. To top it all off, I was bed ridden for the next several weeks too. At least until my legs healed. How had I fallen so far so fast?
It all started with a car – a piece of shit car in fact. My father gave it to me on my 16th birthday. It didn’t run well and it looked like utter crap.
I didn’t realize at first, but it was the best gift anyone had ever given me. Every time it needed repaired, my dad would set aside time to take me out to the garage and teach me how to fix it myself.
Once I gave it a chance, I was hooked. I fell in love with fixing and improving my POS. Within a year, it was no longer running horribly. It still looked awful but it ran like a beast. The last two years of high school flew by because of that car. Either I was at work or fixing my car, and I only worked so I would have money to put into my car.
High school came and went and even more to my surprise, on graduation day, my parents announced that I had a trust fund left behind by my grandparents. All of my college expenses would be paid for and then some. I’d already applied and been accepted to City College and now with my new fortune, I couldn’t wait to leave.
It wasn’t long after settling in at school, that I met some like-minded companions who were also into all things automobile related. They introduced to the world of underground racing.
And I was good at it. Even in my POS, I won a lot of races and made a lot of money. Not that I cared though because everything I needed was paid for. I just enjoyed the thrill of the race.
People say things like car accidents happen all the time. And it’s true. Accidents happen. Sometimes you are not even doing anything out of the ordinary but they happen anyway.
When you get in the car and race, chances of an accident increase exponentially. That should seem obvious, but honestly my 18 year old brain wouldn’t have cared anyway if someone had mentioned that to me.
I lived to race. And sooner rather than later, I got in an accident. An accident that landed me in the hospital, barely alive, and now living with my parents again.
If I could do it over again, I would still do it. You only live once and sometimes you just want to drive fast.
Still Working on My Novel 