Writing Prompt: Day 41

41.jpgDay 41 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character finds a book that changes everything.

Erin: “Of course, we got stuck with cleaning the attic,” I groaned as a puff of dust started to fill my lungs with death.

“Why were all of these things kept,” my co-worker ignored my comment with her own. “I can’t even read whatever print was on this paper. It’s faded more than my memories from Friday night.”

“I think it was an office memo,” I squinted at the light gray specks barely hanging on to the paper fibers.

“Well it is garbage and always should have been,” she threw the sheet into the recycle.

“Hey look,” I found an old record player in the corner and when I plugged it in it didn’t explode. I placed the Elvis record in and smooth crackling tones lulled into my ears.

“Yes,” my co-worker finally upped her mood.

As I unloaded one of the crates a book with an opal cover caught my eye. “Spells and Curses.” I didn’t touch it. I worked on eliminating the binders, hole punches, and staplers surrounding them.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Lace informed before leaving me alone in the dingy space.

That is when I opened the opal book. I checked the appendix and found what I was looking for. I turned the page and practiced the hand motion. Then I added the words at the same time, “Laky Gool Faricke.”

“How the fuck did you get this done so fast,” Lace screamed once she had climbed the steps. I hid the book behind my back.

Shannon: I thought it was just an ordinary library book, and I wanted to read it because of the description of the fictional story on the back cover. However when I open it up I got a lot more than I was ever expecting.

I was reading it just fine, because the first few pages weren’t tampered with, but as I went on that’s when I started finding little characters and opinions written next to the seams and any free space their creator could find. The person who wrote them meant for someone else to find them. They were meant to be read by someone in the future, and at the same time no one in particular. It was like a secret book club inside the book, giving his or her opinions and making funny jokes.

There was no way to know when they were written, and if this person had graduated, or if they were still going to the school. If they were still going to the school then I had to meet them, heck, even if they weren’t I still wanted to know. I guess I also want the writer to know that there additions weren’t disappearing into thin air, and that at least one person had caught them, and she was very grateful.

Write about something someone else wrote affecting the life of someone you write.