Prompt Fiction

Every Friday here on Lost 20’s is Prompt-Fiction Friday! You guys send me your prompts/ scene starters, and I’ll build short scenes around them. Anything from, “I thought to the cat was dead…” to “She just panicked…” will suffice. Give me anything– short & sweet– & I’ll pick the best ones & turn them into a scenes for Prompt-Fiction Friday!

Submit your short, one sentence scene starters below, or email them directly to prompts@lost20s.com!

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Your Scene Starter (required)

 

EXAMPLE

Scene starter:

To open in the case of my death…

Scene:

The words were written, small and precise, across the center of the old envelope. Millie turned it over in her hands, the thin layer of dust from the paper rubbing off on her fingertips.

To open in the case of my death. How strange. Was it some sort of goodbye? A final testament from beyond the grave? And was she allowed to open it, considering, well, he wasn’t dead?

It was addressed to her, after all. Whatever it was couldn’t have been personal or else he wouldn’t have written it to her at all. Never taking her eyes off of the envelope, she stood and went to her desk to retrieve her letter opener. He’d given her that letter opener for her birthday just a few months prior. She’d always thought letter openers pointless, as one shouldn’t need a special tool for a task as uncomplicated as opening an envelope. This letter opener in particular, however, turned out to be one of those most special gifts she’d ever received. Shiny bronze and embossed with intricate flowers, he’d had her name inscribed across the handle. It was beautiful.

She slit the envelope open and pulled the letter from it. Plopping back down on her bed, she unfolded the paper and began to read.

Millie, it began. If you’re reading this, then I am no longer with you.

She chuckled.

Let me first say that I love you. Even now, from wherever I am, I love you. Next, I want to say that I’m sorry.

Millie’s brows furrowed in confusion as she read on. After a moment, her eyes bulged, her mouth fell agape, a silent gasp escaped her. She read and re-read some of the sentences, just to be sure they really said what she thought they said. Just to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.

She had to be mistaken.

By the end of the letter, tears blurred her vision. She clutched the paper in a tight fist, unable to look away from in. Unable to look away from the truths that confirmed every other lie he told.

And then, the bedroom door open and he sashayed in. “That was a good workout,” he said, patting his sweaty forehead with the hand towel he was holding. He barely noticed her sitting there as he made his way past her and into the bathroom. 

Clutching the letter opener in her fist, she stood and followed him. He finally looked at her when she stepped into the bathroom behind him. “What’s up?” he asked. “Hey, are you crying?”

Without replying, she raised the letter to him. It took him but a moment to realize what it was. His eyes widened as they met hers. “Millie. Oh, Millie, you weren’t supposed to read that! Open in the case of my death, Millie! I’m not dead!”

But she nodded. “Yeah,” she said, opening her hand and letting the letter fall from her fingers. “Yeah, you are.” And before he could stop her, she raised the letter opener and plunged it into his chest.

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