PROMPT: Our InScribe Word Challenge Coordinator sent out this challenge: Reply to this email and pick a number between 1 and 365. I have a list of 365 writing prompts and will assign the corresponding prompt to the number you select.
The prompt I received was #268 – Write about being stranded somewhere – an island, a bus stop, a shopping mall, etc. Or you can go metaphorical and talk about being stranded in time or during a particular event, etc. Allow your muse to be stirred and let creativity take centre stage!
What is a prompt? Check here for an explanation.
Oh, look. There. That gentleman looks nice. Maybe he’ll help me.
No. He’s walking right past.
I see the bank. Was I just there? Or am I going there now? Over that way is the drugstore. That’s where I buy stamps. Am I going there?
I raise my hand to a lady rushing by. “Excuse me…” but she keeps going.
“Ma’am, what are you doing?”
Who are you? Are you here to steal my money? I was just at the bank. I have all this money in my purse. Is that what you want? If I give it to you, will you go away?
“Ma’am, you can’t stand in the middle of the crosswalk like this. The light’s going to change.”
“I’m happy, you know. But there’s so many places. How is one to know?” Doesn’t he understand I’ve lost my way? I don’t know if I’m going to the bank or away from it. I don’t know which corner I need to reach. And I don’t know if I can trust him. And I can’t find my words. Lord, help me!
“Ma’am, if you take my arm, I’ll help you across the street. Which corner did you want?”
Listen to him, asking questions like I’m some kind of fool. I yell at him: “People are all around here! How should I know?”
He tips his head and looks at me. Hard. I feel my muscles start to shake. But he’s holding out his arm like Daddy does when he says I’m his special girl. I smile and take his arm. A strong arm for Daddy’s special girl.
“Where do you live, ma’am? Do you live in the Seniors Residence there beside the drugstore? Is that where you’re going?”
I look where he’s pointing. The building is made of red brick. I eat in a building made of red brick.
“That place has a dining room,” I tell him. This is something I know. And I have found my words! “My shoes are there.”
The man is smiling now.
“My mom lived in a Seniors Home, too, “ he says. He snugs my arm in his and puts his hand on mine. We’re crossing the street. “She didn’t always remember details either. But if your shoes are there, I’m thinking that’s where you live. Am I right?”
I lean on him to climb up the curb. We pass the drugstore where I buy stamps. I smile. Here I am, coming home on the arm of this handsome young man. We come to double glass doors. I see people in there and they see me. With a nice young man. I have a key on my wrist. I hold it up for him to see.
“Is that the key for the door?” he asks. “Let’s try it.”
And just like that he opens the door and I’m inside.
“Have a nice day, ma’am,” and he is gone.
Such a nice young man. I think he liked me.
I wonder, will I tell my mother about this?
Then I look back out to the street. My goodness.
Oh, my goodness! This brain of mine left me stranded out there in the crosswalk. Four corners and I didn’t know which was mine.
Lord, thank you for finding me and bringing me home. Maybe… maybe tomorrow you’ll bring me to my real home.
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