Prompt a Week

September 20, 2011

Prompt: He put it on the mantel piece for luck.

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I put it on the mantel piece for luck. It joined the red metal elephant, the most senior piece, and the chipped Chinese mug with the matching lid, a contribution by JP's senior prom date, and the brass bowl where all the spare keys were kept -- the ones for our current cars and cars past, as though they might show up some day and require a key. The mantel itself gave everything a kind of timelessness by association. The newer additions acquired age by association. I looked at it again. On second thought, it didn't belong there, with the elephant that had watched me nurse or the brass bowl from god only knows when. It was a fly-by-night charm by comparison.
--Tom Hoyer, RBWG member

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She put it on the mantel piece for luck and her hand brushed the photo of their trip together last year, a happier time in her life.

These last few months pounded inside her head. Luck, yes she could use some of that right now as her life swirled around her.

Her children, in high school and almost out the door to college moved through their lives in a circle orbiting her now – she was no longer the center of their universe as she had always been.

What now, she thought. What do I do now that I am alone? Now that I can do anything I want for the first time in my life I don’t know where to go or what to do. How did that happen?

All those plans, all those dreams, swept away with the closing of the front door late one Sunday night in January as her husband left their home for the last time.
--Carol G., Frederick, MD

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I put it on the mantel for no particular reason. Just to get it out of where it was underneath the cushion of the room’s one comfortable reading chair. A Matchbox car carrier without any cars and minus one of its wheels. It sat there for years along with the brass candlesticks my parents gave me and my grandmother’s well-used mortar and pestle set, antiques nobody else wanted. After a while the truck looked like it belonged there with the other discards. I lifted it occasionally to dust underneath and once in a fit of cleanliness washed and dried it carefully, placing it back so that the side with the chipped red paint was toward the wall. Years from now, when I’m gone, someone will wonder, Why this item? Why here?
--Sarah Barnett, RBWG member

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September 20, 2011 Prompt: He put it on the mantel piece for luck. * * * I put it on the mantel piece for luck. It joined the red metal elephant, the most senior piece, and the chipped Chinese mug with the matching lid, a contribution by JP's senior prom date, and the brass bowl where all the spare keys were kept -- the ones for our current cars and cars past, as though they might show up some day and require a key. The mantel itself gave everything a kind of timelessness by association. The newer additions acquired age by association. I looked at it again. On second thought, it didn't belong there, with the elephant that had watched me nurse or the brass bowl from god only knows when. It was a fly-by-night charm by comparison. --Tom Hoyer, RBWG member * * * She put it on the mantel piece for luck and her hand brushed the photo of their trip together last year, a happier time in her life. These last few months pounded inside her head. Luck, yes she could use some of that right now as her life swirled around her. Her children, in high school and almost out the door to college moved through their lives in a circle orbiting her now – she was no longer the center of their universe as she had always been. What now, she thought. What do I do now that I am alone? Now that I can do anything I want for the first time in my life I don’t know where to go or what to do. How did that happen? All those plans, all those dreams, swept away with the closing of the front door late one Sunday night in January as her husband left their home for the last time. --Carol G., Frederick, MD * * * I put it on the mantel for no particular reason. Just to get it out of where it was underneath the cushion of the room’s one comfortable reading chair. A Matchbox car carrier without any cars and minus one of its wheels. It sat there for years along with the brass candlesticks my parents gave me and my grandmother’s well-used mortar and pestle set, antiques nobody else wanted. After a while the truck looked like it belonged there with the other discards. I lifted it occasionally to dust underneath and once in a fit of cleanliness washed and dried it carefully, placing it back so that the side with the chipped red paint was toward the wall. Years from now, when I’m gone, someone will wonder, Why this item? Why here? --Sarah Barnett, RBWG member * * *
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