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The Story Spark was Harvest Moon. The writing prompt I chose are the first two sentences of this piece. We had 25 minutes to write.

The Choice

The moonlit forest was alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. She ventured deeper, guided by a silver fox that seemed to know her destiny. She wasn’t scared, as one might be in the forest alone, guided by a single creature—one of those magical ones that often portend danger and destruction.

She had seen this silver fox before. It had been watching her for weeks outside her cabin as she did her daily chores.

In folk myth, it should have transformed into human form and tried to lure her to some destination where it would have her killed. However, this one did not bother to change its appearance. It just watched.

When it finally chose to speak, she heard its words in her head. “I seek your help.”

She looked deep into the silver fox’s eyes, deep into its soul. He was speaking the truth.

“What is it that I can help you with?”

Again, its words were heard: “I can only share that with you if you follow me into the forest.”

Should she go or not? She was a kind-hearted woman. She felt the fox’s desperate need. So she said, “Lead on.”

As they ventured deeper, the sounds of the other animals began to diminish. Soon they came to a small circle of rocks. Within that circle lay a silver fox kit. Its eyes were closed. Shallow breaths came from it.

The silver fox said, “My child shall die without sustenance. It needs to be fed.”

“What kind of food is necessary?” she said.

“That which only a human can provide,” it replied.

She thought about that. Does that mean I must give up my life to save this kit, or is there something else humans have that this kit needs? It didn’t make sense that she would have to give up her life. The aura surrounding that silver fox did not bode evil. What was needed? So that is what she asked, “What do I have that can save your kit? Is there a danger to me?”

“Danger is relative,” the fox replied. “Will you be eaten and die? That is a question I cannot answer. You have to decide how to save this kit. What it needs is love. More so than I can give it. But for you to give that of yourself, you need commitment. And that is what I ask for”

She thought about that for a while. Taking care of a silver fox kit requires time. Taking care of a silver fox kit means putting up with ridicule and avoidance from those who fear it, maybe even violence from non-believers.

As she looked upon this forlorn creature, its eyes slowly opened and gazed at her. This time, it was her soul being looked at.

She felt the kit’s emotions: the longing for love, the will to survive, its trust, and its commitment to her.

There was no need to think about it anymore. She stepped into the circle of rocks, picked up the kit, and hugged it to her chest. Her answer to the silver fox was yes.

The Story Spark was Write Something. The writing prompts I chose were: In the back of the closet and Alone in his room. We had 20 minutes to write.

The Finding

I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I had it just yesterday. I was trying to keep it hidden from everyone so I wouldn’t lose it. It must be in a very secretive place. 

I’ve looked everywhere I could think of. Down in the basement lockbox, up in the attic where I store all my old stuff. Even in the back of the closet, where I keep all the clothes I love and refuse to give up.

This was a bad case of doorway syndrome. You know, when you walk through a door to a room and forget why you went there. 

Where could I have left it? 

Finally, I decided to go into my private space, shut the door and the light, close my eyes, which really wasn’t necessary with the lights off, and let my mind wander. Which isn’t difficult for me, as my mind wanders frequently without any added stimulus.

I took a deep breath and let all thoughts dissipate. Fat chance that is ever going to happen. It didn’t take me long to focus on nothing.

And that is exactly when I found what I had been looking for — My sanity. 

In a world filled with conflict. In a world consumed by too much hate, in a world denying the reality of our need to save our planet, in the world’s relentless acceptance of lies and mis-truths, I needed to find some solace and hope that there was going to be a future, not an end. 

Darkness was a fitting place to expose all these feelings. Darkness encompassed where I was in this room. 

It was then that I noticed the light that began to show under the door frame and through the keyhole. 

I began to hear the voices of the ones I love, coming through from the outside. 

I got up, and as I opened the door to my room, not only did the light from the hallway fill my space, but sunlight through the panes of textured glass on the windows created rainbows of color on the floor I walked on. 

Opening the windows brought forth the sounds of nature calling out to me, “We are here. We are with you. We will not let this be our final days.”

My spirit awoke. Hope, though not assured, was present and guiding me to a better place. To a brighter future. 

Time is not up. This is not the end game. This will be what you and those like me will make of it. We can prevail. 

Sometimes, it is important to stop the world and your surroundings to get your bearings and move forward to a better place. That is what I found. 

The Story Spark was Simply Put. I chose the writing prompt – In the attic

It Started With a Sound

You live in a house for thirty years. You would think there is nothing new you can find. Old things to find are a certainty. Unopened boxes are still in the basement from when we moved here. Boxes with wall hangings, books, dishes, some with no labels on them at all. If you didn’t need what was in them, then why bother opening them? Which is why they are still boxed. 

Things are stored in the basement because when you move in, especially with an attached garage, that is the first place you dump things.

Our house has an attic also. As far as I know, we have never put anything in the attic. That changed the day that I heard noises above me that I surmised were either from my roof or attic.

I went outside to see if anyone or anything was on my roof. It looked normal to me. My next step was to check the attic. 

The noises had stopped, but my curiosity had not. 

I found the release hatch and released the wooden stairs that led into the attic. I made sure I had a flashlight and a hammer with me to protect myself. As I slowly climbed up the ladder, I sensed that things were being moved. I reached the opening to the attic and cautiously fanned my flashlight around, trying to spot the perpetrator. I saw nothing. 

 Feeling more secure that there was no one there, I stepped further into the attic and examined the surroundings. 

The floor was covered with ancient dust. In the far corner, I saw a large box. It had some markings on it that I couldn’t quite understand. There was a definite pattern in the dust from one wall to where the box stood. Someone, or something, had moved it. 

Now I was a bit more concerned. I felt a cold wind blowing down my neck. Turning around quickly, I saw nothing, so I continued to the box. 

Underneath the strange markings I had seen, there was another piece of writing. It was in English. It read, in all caps, DO NOT OPEN UNTIL,” followed by that day’s date. 

What would you do in that situation?

Curiosity got the best of me. I took out my penknife and carefully cut through the cords that bound the box shut. As I opened the box slowly, holding my hammer at the ready, a green light began to fill the room. I took a step back as a small disk-shaped object floated up out of the box. 

It floated towards me, it floated around me, and it floated above and below me. 

It again floated right in front of my face. Calling me by name, it said, “Thank you. We are now free. Our time in captivity has been reached. We are now allowed to help you in your troubled life, in your troubled world, and in your troubled future.”

I didn’t know what to say.