That Erica Writes site I was talking about with Friday prompts (and she does a 50-worder where you write the last 50 words).
LISA
Escape
Someone whispered ‘Good Luck’ as we set off tiptoeing up the stairs, slow shaky steps away from our prison. We found ourselves in a narrow dimly lit corridor. The air smelled fresher up there: we had been locked up a while. The walls were lined with bookcases, like helpless moths we made for the light at the end of the passageway.
My nose twitched at the faint smell of a coal fire ahead. As we approached the floorboards, that had been as quiet as the grave, gave a bloodcurdling screech and we sprinted back to the safety of the basement.
RICHARD
Ikea? – I can’t!
“So, what do you think?”
I could tell from the pregnant pause, and the slightly embarrassed look on my wife’s face that my flat pack building skills could possibly need a little more work.
“Well… It’s a bookcase, of sorts”, she mumbled.
That was a bit of a blow.
“A bookcase? It’s supposed to be a bedside cabinet!”
“Ah”, she continued, “so what exactly is that other pile of wood and screws, then?”
“Spares!” I replied confidently.
She took my hand, and smiled solicitously, “Tell you what, love, why don’t we just buy a ready-made one from the store?”
ZACKMANN
After a Christmas dinner I opened my gift from my son to find I had received a DVD copy of “The Hogfather” which I had been hinting I wanted for a year and a half. I thought it would be cool that my future rewatches would be advertisement free. It could rest on top of the Pratchett paperbacks when not in the video player.
Not to be outdone, my son’s wife handed my wife, She Who Must Be Obeyed, her gift. My wife opened a framed picture of an ultrasound. I now expect my superhero name will be Grandpa Zackmann
TOM
October 25 1415
Our house is filled with bookcases. Floor to ceiling. Mostly pine with a few oak. It’s An eclectic collection from graphic novels to exploration of the Higgs boson. The complete works of Tolkien and the collected works of Shakespeare. While I have a soft spot in my heart for the Tempest the speech in Henry the V is wire in the blood. On field of Agincourt young Harry spoke:
Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers
Bonanza
When I was growing up the number one program of TV was Bonanza. My Dad loved the show because during the war he met one of the actors. That was Dan Blocker. It’s pretty weird number of people my dad met during the war. Seems he got his front teeth knocked-out was actual written up for damaging government property. While in hospital he met a young Blocker recovering from wounds he sustained holding Pork Chop Hill. My dad remembered him as a gentle man in a huge body. He said he had size 14 boondocks. Dad always called boots boondocks.
NORVAL JOE
Mandi burst into tears. “We have to help those people.” She sprinted toward the meadow.
Billbert shot forward and caught her. “Wait. You don’t want to get shot too.”
The crisp chatter of semi-automatic gunfire continued from beyond the trees.
He pulled out his phone. “Darn. No connection.”
Billbert looked up at the sky. “Maybe I can get some bars above the trees. Stay here, please.”
Mandi wiped her nose with the back of her hand and nodded.
Phone in hand, Billbert shot above the trees.
The driver stood atop his septic tank service van, following Billbert with his AR-15.
TURA
Bookcase; Vulgar
———
My Library exists more outside this world than in it. Those who enter in search of a long-lost tome may find it, if their heart is pure, but otherwise only a spurious imitation. Those drawn by vulgar curiosity will find only vulgar curiosities. Those who seek enlightenment may find it, or something they take for enlightenment but which drives them mad. And those who seek to know how the Library came to be are never seen again, following reference after reference, ever deeper amongst the endless corridors of bookcases.
Therefore take care what you seek, lest you find it.
PLANET Z
Guilty. On all counts.
Of what?
Edgar sat in his cell, unable to remember anything.
Okay, he knew his name. But nothing else.
A man came to talk to him. His attorney, he said.
He was filing an appeal.
For what, asked Edgar.
His attorney stared at him.
Are you serious?
Edgar was moved to a hospital and doctors examined him.
Complete memory loss.
Not guilty due to mental incapacity.
He was a free man.
Free to do what, asked Edgar.
His attorney showed him pictures, told him all kinds of things.
But Edgar just sat there and breathed slowly.
CHATGPT
Amelia’s bookcase overflowed with tales, a kaleidoscope of worlds waiting to be explored. One day, she discovered a crisp, forgotten letter tucked among the pages. It held a joyous verdict – she was pregnant! Overwhelmed with happiness, she sprinted to share the news with her husband. Their laughter echoed through the house as they embraced the impending adventure. Amidst the excitement, they cherished the vulgar beauty of life, finding love in every moment. The bookcase, witness to their journey, stood sturdy and proud, a silent testament to the chapters unfolding within their own storybook life.