Prompt Two


Prompt Two
By Nandy Ekle

I am going to attempt something new each week here. I have a list of story prompts that I want to use for my blogs each week. These are not my original ideas, they are from several lists I have found.

So, here is Number Two. Not sure what to call it, but here goes.


Every day is the same routine. Get up in the early morning, go to bed late at night. Work at my desk job during the daylight hours, work at my home job during the nighttime hours. Gather documents from eight to twelve, eat lunch hour from twelve to one, write letters from one to five. Go home, eat dinner, surf the net, bed, start over.

But then something completely unexpected happened. When I got to my desk I noticed one of my shelf decorations had an altered look. When I saw this, I knew my life would never be the same.

I work in a small cubicle, a U-shaped desk, two filing cabinets, two shelves. One of the shelves, the one closest to my arm length, is covered with books and information I use to research my letters. The other shelf is covered with my personal decorations. I love skulls, sugar skulls, skeletons, all manner of Halloween type stuff. I have several pieces arranged in a tableau to looks like a dark corpse wedding. The centerpiece of my tableau is a bronze skull on a platform looking at a black bronze rose, as if in contemplation. I call him Horatio.

I greet Horatio every morning and he stares back at me with his hollow bronze eyes as if to say, “Good morning, Nandy. Today we will be writing a story about a bullfight.” “Good morning, Nandy. Today we are researching tarot cards.” “Good morning, Nancy. Today we are going to read a book to get ideas about how to handle your main character’s current situation.” But one morning when I came in, Horatio didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

Up until around four months ago a woman sat in the cubicle behind me. She had always been a woman woman who was know for being harsh. She had a strong personality, and usually came off as a hard nose. Her speech could be abrupt, and she used that to her advantage. It was a while before I felt comfortable with her, and she did not like my skulls and skeletons. So when I saw Horatio on this particular morning, my co-worker suddenly gained a huge amount of respect and love for her.

Horatio staid in his spot on the shelf. He didn’t say a single word, but he didn’t need to. a giant rainbow colored Afro wig was perched on his head, I laughed at him, and he laughed back. And i hear the voice of my co-worker behind me break out in a giant giggle. I looked over the cubicle wall and watched as my co-worker wiped the tears off her face.

“Is that your wig?” I asked her.
“Well, if it’s not, it should be.”

She didn’t answer, but together she and I took some awesome pictures. And Horatio has been more than just a pretty skull.

What I said on that day is, “So, we’re having some dark humor today?” Horatio just looked at his rose while grinning his bronze grin. Kay became a very good friend of mine and when she retired a few months later, I could almost swear the skull named Horotio blow me kisses when no one else is working.

Congratulations. You have just received a post card from the muse.

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