Weekly Challenge #103 – Steamer Trunk

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Three, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Daphne Abernathy, who is going for broke with…
It’s Steamer Trunk.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #103?
Steven the Nuclear Man!
Tom from Footnote
Terry the Quiet Time
Guy David from Guy David dot com
Planet Xray from Planet X Podcast
JD from Writing.com
Daphne from Going Broke
Sougent from SL Adventures of a South Gentleman
Evamoon from The Lunatics
Craig from Wash The Bowl
Anima Zabaleta
Terrence from Never Was
Planet Z
  
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Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


STEVEN
(The background sounds were from Metamorphmuses at the Freesound Project. )

“Are we supposed to be up here?”
The third attic stair squeaked before I answered my sister’s whine.
“Mom is gone for the afternoon. I am bored and in charge until they get
back. So yes.”
The attic was full of Grandmother’s old stuff. Here there was a stack of
yellowing magazines, there were some musty papers and old books. Under it
all was the prize: Her old steamer trunk, blackened with age and oil.
“Bobby, I heard Grandma was a witch.”
Pandora Spyros, Grandma’s name, was written just above the latch. I ignored
my sister and opened Grandmother’s box.

TOM

The horizon of London was as still as death. Maria and Cervantes moved passed Bishopsgate. They were play connect the dot using the ever iconic nightingales, beck left, beck right. “I think were here.” Said Maria. Beck down. They pried the manhole cover and started down the vertical stairs. At the bottom of the shaft two shadows took form and demanded a password.
Cervantes replied, ” pierce the hallow of thee ear.” The men grunt and led them down the sewers. After an hour the quartet was standing in front of Quatermain his foot resting on a venting steamer trunk.

DAPHNE

We don’t have many luxuries down here. The dampness destroys most things. Leave a book out too long, the pages become swollen and warped. Photos stick together. Clothes get musty and moldy. I’m lucky, I thought ahead. I pack my few treasured belongings into an old steamer trunk. It was designed to keep out the moisture. I have a few photo albums, some favorite books, extra clothes and a music box. I can’t play it as often as I’d like, it would draw attention from above, but when I feel brave I wind it up and let it play.

TERRY

Bizroc happily scurried into the kitchen, amazed at the good luck of his hunting mere minutes ago.
The earthling had been so easily confused; Bizroc had hardly appeared when the earthling froze in his tracks, unable to move.
Then, it had been so easy, no thick armored skin like any of the local animals, one swipe of his fangs and he had enough meat for both him and his wife.
While he thought of his good luck, Bizroc put the large chuck of meat into the Steamer Trunk to let it hydrate and cook, they would be eating good tonight.

GUY

It looked like an old treasure chest. As we entered the attic, the old steamer truck grandma hidden away glowed slightly. “We shouldn’t be here” said Judy, “What if your grandma comes back? I’m afraid of what she would do”. “Oh, relax”, I said, “She’s hanging around with that Lony. They won’t be here for a while”.
As we approached the old chest, I noticed the box had what looked like a face, and it was smiling slightly.
Suddenly, we heard the door opening, and my grandma was standing there, then she smiled slightly and turned Judy to a frog.

JD

The auction was at the old warehouse at the end of Cunard Rd.
I had read in the paper that there would be many unopened bags and trunks.
I stood with my bid stick and watch as small leather bags and large suitcases were sold.
I bid and was out bid throughout the day.
Near the end only a few people remained when the Steamer Trunk was wheeled out.
Old and beaten the trunk called to me.
I bid and won.
It smelled of mold and mildew.
On the tag handwritten in fading ink were the words.
Southampton, England, Titanic.

PLANET XRAY

Jack opened the Steamer Trunk, quickly stuffing the Nightingale Sister’s limp, lifeless bodies inside. Throwing in the red rose, he lost sight of the petals against the blood soaked dresses. Using rags, he wiped up the rest of the blood and tossed them inside also, locking the Trunk.
His hobby so easy; there were so many young ladies who believed that young men wanted nothing more than to be in their company and spend money.
Dragging the trunk slowly down the stairs, he opened the door and tossed the trunk into the underground river, to a life in the sewers.

SOUGENT

The plan was foolproof, its execution was perfect, nothing could possibly go wrong.
The steamer trunk was ready, large enough you could stuff a body into it.
It wasn’t much of a struggle in the end, shortly after the cake was delivered, the coup de gr”ce was also.
It was quite absurd, really, to believe he would be much of a challenge.
He reached up and brushed some cake crumbs from his lapel, shook his head sadly and closed the lid of the steamer trunk which now contained a jumble of parts, the remains of one slightly ambitious robotic butler.

EVAMOON

Alma shut the lid and punched in her code. Again. When she opened the box,
it was still empty. Damn infomercials! It was supposed to be the best new
thing to solve household storage problems. Using the new transdimensional
gateway technology, you could fit all your stuff in a box about the size of
a steamer trunk. All coded for instant retrieval. Except now it wasn”t
giving anything back. Anything that went in was just gone. And the tech
support lines were disconnected.
Alma stood, dusted her hands, and called to discontinue her garbage
collection service.

CRAIG

Her thoughts got lost in the the neighborhood as she walked.
Lead paint pealing, washing into the gutters mixing with fluids from obnoxious realms, flowing into their taps.
Yellow and gray floating in and out of apt windows, children”s lungs tattooed with rust.
Sally pushed through the fear, sweat beading like pearls on spandex.
Hurried little laughs echoed from doorways.
Inching her stilettos over the smooth cobblestones Sally felt people watching her, following her.
Opening the door to her grandfathers old factory. Holding her breath unlocking the steamer trunk, reaching inside with one quick motion, pulling out her Teddy Bear.

ANIMA

The dapper secret agent stands up in front of the large steamer trunk. Quick footsteps are heard receding in the tunnel below.
“Artie, I have to go after Loveless””
“If you don’t stop him Jim, he will use the Ultrasonic Reverberator to destroy the railroad trestle. The President and all the European ambassadors will die!”
“Train of fools”” mutters Jim.
Jim stomps his boots; knives shoot from the toes. He lowers himself into the trunk, front-pointing into the mine shaft.
“And Artie, could you change into the strumpet outfit” that green dress does bring out your eyes…

TERRENCE

Dropping the dead bird it landed with a thud next to the old wooden box. Raoul gave the box a kick. It started to click and shake. Raoul watched as it got louder and louder until it climaxed with a short quiet pop.
The bird slowly stood and looked up at him. Raoul punted the bird across the field out of sight. He couldn’t believe that people all over the world searched for the box. Sure it had it’s uses, but it wasn’t like they would ever believe that this ragged looking steam trunk was the Ark of the Covenant.

PLANET Z

The Blue Fairy gave Pinocchio the gift of life, but with life, comes the curse of pain and death.
Gepetto warned Pinocchio that life was a lot more dangerous for a real boy than a little wooden puppet.
Pinocchio laughed. “I’m not made of wood, Papa,” he said. “If I put my arm in a fire…”
To this day, as he looks down at the trembling child, cowering inside of a steamer trunk and begging for the lid to be brought down again, shutting out the horrors of the outside world, Gepetto regrets ever having carved that block of wood.

One thought on “Weekly Challenge #103 – Steamer Trunk”

  1. I hate to be Mr. Poopy Pants but a serial made of 100 word stories is no longer a 100 word story. It’s either a 100 times however many episodes there are word story or a bunch of 100 word stories stitched together like a Frankenstein’s monster.
    I mean you know, go on having fun however you like and don’t let me stop you but I felt like somebody had to put the argument against out there.

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