Monday Challenge: What’s In The Box?

A cardboard box that appears to look shocked a...

Even the box was surprised when that happened. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You know one thing I like about being up early on Mondays? I can get so much shit done. Seriously, I’m more than halfway through today’s to-do list and it’s only ten past ten. And that includes a 45-minute run during which I frightened small children on their way to school.* Yes, it’s going to be a good day.

And you know what will make it even better? (Sports announcer voice) The……MOOOOOOONDAY CHALLENGE!**

Today, I want you to turn your headbones to a scene for me. It should be easy; you’re in it.

It’s a Monday morning. You wake up early, and go out in your slippers and bathrobe to check the mail. Or to see if your neighbour is doing chores shirtless again. It’s kind of their thing. Anyway, when you open the door, there’s a box on your doorstep. You haven’t been expecting any packages, though. Upon picking it up, you notice it has a return address, but the ink is so badly smudged you can’t read it. But it’s clearly your name on the box. Funny, though: it includes that nickname you haven’t heard in a dog’s age. Your curiosity is piqued. You open the box.

Fade to black.

Ten minutes later, Shirtless Neighbour is explaining to the police that have arrived that she/he has no idea what caused that strange, disturbing noise. But when he/she checked on the direction it came from, all that was found was a pair of slippers and a bathrobe lying abandoned outside your door. They have no explanation for the green feather duster stuffed in the mailbox, or for the broken window. When the police check the area, they find a box on the roof, addressed to you.

So: what happened in that ten minutes?

Connect the dots time, word herders. You’ve got an A and Z; you can make up all the others. Consider it training for writing an outline when you’ve got to fill in the spaces between your opening and your conclusion. Ask yourself: what needs to happen now for this to happen later? Can you fill in the blanks?

And now I’m going to go back to kicking Monday’s ass.

*Because a childhood without meaningless terror is a childhood wasted.
**I may have overdone the coffee.

 

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3 thoughts on “Monday Challenge: What’s In The Box?

  1. It’s a Monday morning. You wake up early, and go out in your slippers and bathrobe to check the mail. It passes through your sleepy mind that you couldn’t have done this when Charlie was alive because you both slept in the nude. Now here you are, five years later, going out to get your mail. Or to see if your neighbour is doing chores shirtless again. You figure any male under twenty likes to strut around shirtless as much as possible. It’s kind of their thing. Anyway, when you open the door, there’s a box on your doorstep. You haven’t been expecting any packages, though. Upon picking it up, you notice it has a return address, but the ink is so badly smudged you can’t read it. But it’s clearly your name on the box. Funny, though: it includes that nickname you haven’t heard in a dog’s age. In fact, the only one that had called you that had been Charlie. Your curiosity is piqued. Could it be? You open the box.

    Fade to black.

    Ten minutes later, Shirtless Neighbour is explaining to the police that have arrived that she/he has no idea what caused that strange, disturbing noise. But when he/she checked on the direction it came from, all that was found was a pair of slippers and a bathrobe lying abandoned outside your door. They have no explanation for the green feather duster stuffed in the mailbox, or for the broken window. When the police check the area, they find a box on the roof, addressed to you.

    So: what happened in that ten minutes?

    You and Charlie quickly get dressed to answer the insistent buzzing coming from the front door accompanied by an authoritative voice yelling, “Open up!. Police!” Red faced, breathing hard between giggles, you open the door with Charlie behind you.

    “Yes Officer?”

    “We got a call from Mr. Jones here who was painting his fence when he heard a scream and a commotion coming from over here.” (gesturing first at Mr. Jones standing on the walkway and then at the small broken window next to the door). “Are you okay Ma’am?”

    “Yes Officer, thank you. You see I was checking my mail and noticed this box, so of course I opened it and there was a small concrete Buddha in it, which I had just picked up when my husband came behind me with a feather duster and tickled my neck. It startled me so much my hands flew up, Buddha went airborne through the window from one hand and the box went, well I don’t know where it went, flew from my other hand. I’m afraid I must have fainted (bending over to retrieve my bathrobe and slippers) so my husband loosened my clothing…” I trailed off into silence. Charlie poked me in the back.

    “If you’re sure everything is okay, then I’ll be going. Have a nice day.”

    Charlie yanked me inside, closed the door (without slamming it, we didn’t want the police to come back!) and kissed me again and again. I tossed the bathrobe on the floor to join the slippers. I had a feeling I’d be sleeping in the nude from now on!

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