Wednesday Words

Wednesday words is something I discovered on P T Wyant’s blog.  She posts a prompt and then you just let your imagination take over.

It could be a flash fiction, or a poem, or a few short ramblings.

The prompt this week was:

You find a closed box along the side of the road.

Here’s what I came up with:

Not Just a Box

“Joey, it’s just a box.”

“What?” I exclaim, my face, my entire body, registering shock at his words. “It’s not just a box, Steven, it’s an adventure.

“It’s a cave, a hideaway.  Cut a door and paint it blue and it’s a TARDIS.  Imagine the thrill of finding a time travelling machine at the side of the road.

“It’s a secret hide-out for a notorious gang.  It’s Robin Hood’s treehouse.  It’s a pirate ship, on its way to a treasure island.  X marks the spot.

“It isn’t just a box, it’s a prototype spacecraft that can fly faster than the speed of light and take us to new solar systems.

“It’s a portal to a magical world, where time passes differently, and you can live out an entire lifetime when only minutes have passed in this world.

“It’s a meeting place of the gods that only a special chosen few can ever find.  Don’t touch the food on that table, it’s set out for the gods, not us.”

I spread out my hands, fingers splayed as I walk around the box and around Steven.  He spins in a circle watching me, with a look of wonder and of bemusement on his face.  He thinks I’m crazy.  Perhaps I am.

“Where do you get your ideas from?” He asks me, smiling but shaking his head.

“Where’s your sense of imagination, Steven?  Didn’t you ever play with a cardboard box when you were a kid?”

He thinks for a moment and looks like he’s going to nod, but then he frowns and shakes his head.  Do I see a flash of regret in his lovely dark eyes?

“I don’t think I ever did, no.”

I can almost taste his regret.  What kind of childhood did he have if he’s never played with a cardboard box?  Hell, I remember one Christmas, that’s all I wanted.  Whenever my parents asked me, that was my answer: “I want a cardboard box.”.  They couldn’t persuade me otherwise.  No Play Station, or bike, or expensive mobile phone, and they tempted me, oh yes.  My parents dangled those things like carrots in front of a donkey, but I didn’t take the bait.  I wanted a cardboard box and that Christmas morning I got the biggest-ass cardboard box I’d ever seen.  My parents were awesome.  I loved that cardboard box.  It was the best gift I’ve ever had.

Until I met Steven.  Now he’s the best gift.  His smiles, his touch, the way he looks at me.  I don’t take it for granted and I don’t like to boast, but people would kill to have someone look at them the way Steven looks at me.

He’s looking at me that way right now.  Like he can’t quite believe his luck.  I can’t believe my luck, more like, because he chose me and has given me so much.  Well I want to give him everything in return, including the childhood experiences he seems to have somehow missed out on.

“Come on.” I grab his hand, whilst at the same time, grabbing the box.

“What are you doing, Joey?” He gasps, regarding the container warily.

“I’m bringing this home with us.” I grin. “We’re going to have some fun with it.”

“Oh?” He seems a little more enthusiastic at the suggestion of fun. “What are we going to make with it?” Now he’s got the idea.

My grin broadens, and my tongue skims across my top teeth.  It’s an action I know sends him crazy.

“Why don’t we start by making a love nest and work our way up?”


Now I’m off to find myself a cardboard box to play with.

Thanks for reading.  Be sure to check out PT Wyant’s blog post to see what else has been written about that cardboard box.


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