Writing Prompt

By the time Antigone returned to their camp, Pel was fuming.

Antigone walked up the road, calm as can be, and stopped in front of Pel.

“Good evening.”

“Where have you been?” Pel asked.

“The market,” Antigone said with a small bounce.

“You can’t go to the market alone,” Pel said.

Antigone took Pel’s chin in her hand.

“Remarkably, I managed perfectly fine without your charming personality. It’s easier to find the actually powerful items when a heavily-armed mank isn’t glowering three feet away,” Antigone said.

“I don’t glower. I brood,” Pel said.

Antigone released her with an indulgent smile. “And you do so handsomely, my dear.”

Pel’s frown was deep, but it wasn’t about to deter Antigone’s good mood.

“Don’t you want to know what I found?” Antigone asked.

“No,” Pel said, crossing her arms.

“What did you fine?” Lark asked politely as she gently placed a bucket of water next to the fire.

Antigone turned to Lark, clapping her hands. “Purecut gems.”

Pel rolled her eyes. “You did not. You were scammed.”

“My darling Pel,” Antigone said, “I know purecut gems when I see them, and I am not an easy woman to trick.”

“Hard to scam a scammer,” Pel said.

Antigone ignored this. She pulled a small, velvet bag from her cloak pocket.

Lark cringed, taking half a step backwards. Antigone’s smile was forced. Pel had to assume there was some unpleasant illusion magic on it as a protection.

“C’mon,” Antigone said, “I’ll show you.”

Antigone carefully laid her scarf on the table in the camp’s main tent.

For once in her life, Pel was grateful that Damine was present.

“Richest guild leaders in Fiorna can’t get their hands on purecut these days,” Damine said. “You think you found some in this backwater?”

Antigone pulled a pair of silk gloves onto her hands. “We had an abundance, and then suddenly we had none. The gems have to have gone somewhere. Now, I don’t want to see any of you within five feet of these things without gloves.”

Antigone surveyed the trio with threatening cheer.

Then, she spilled the contents of the bag onto the scarf.

Pel’s breath caught in her chest. Half a dozen stones tumbled out— if they were purecut, then that’s a small fortune currently sitting on their crappy wooden table.

Three of the stones were opals, their colours shifting in the lamplight. One was large and greenish-blue— it was almost as big as Antigone’s heritage gem. Its face was smooth and intact. Opals were easy to break, but if you took your time with a puremined and purecut stone, then your magic would hold the gem together, creating a powerful, if often unpredictable, focus.

The fourth was a piece of clear quartz, about the size of Pel’s index finger. Each side of the prism looked to be nearly exactly the same size, and like the opals, the stone was uncracked.

The fifth and sixth were smooth, oval pieces of jade.

The value of those two alone could buy the entire town a hundred times over.

Pel reached for one.

Antigone slapped her hand away.

“Gloves!” she said.

“I’m the only person here who can’t contaminate them,” Pel said, holding her victim hand close to her chest.

“Yes, but your hands are dirty,” Antigone said.

“You know what, Tig—“

“Let’s put the hissy fit aside for now,” Damine said with a disapproving scowl. “We gotta pretty big question to answer. Where the hell did your merchant get these?”

“He wouldn’t say,” Antigone replied. “He’s probably gone by now. The only reason he sold them to me is that I promised not to ask questions.”

“Well I made no such promise,” Damine replied.

Lizabeth signed, “What’s this?” Her what face scrunched in confusion. My wee one was holding a red rectangle. I was confused myself for a moment trying the dirty bright thing over and over. I started to sign “it’s a card,” but our sign language didn’t have a word for “card.” We had good to eat, trade, and danger danger. I thought of the before times when I was my granddaughter’s age. There had been video games and streaming channels and fried Twinkles at the state fair. I didn’t have any words for my girl to explain all the things she had never seen. Instead I made the chopping symbol for “hurry hurry.” Impatiently I gestured to the sky and turned back to gathering. Lizabeth and I forage for chanterelles and tender dandelion leaves. Lizabeth found a chicken of the forest as big as her head. She smiled happy as Sundays. Quietly we harvested without stop always keeping each other in sight. Lizabeth saw the warning smoke thin grey smoke against the blue. That meant drones spotted. I set my own warning smoke to alert the others gathering and we headed back to the underground. Keeping low, the girl and I sprinted. My knees were swift and I knew my back would ache in the night. Despite her heavy pack Lizabeth scrambled like a gazelle through the overgrown park. Another plume rose against the horizon. The Hunts were moving in. They were relentless and had better tech. Fortunately they sucked at communication and strategy. The girl and I slipped past abandoned office buildings and shoe stores. I spied a baby doll in a cracked shopfront window. We hold hands and enter our subway entrance to home. Suddenly tired, I leave Lizabeth with her friends to go to school and I hand in our provisions to our food bank. MaryBell signs for me to chitchat but I wave slowly to say my heart was too heavy to share. MaryBell nods and hands me a container of clean water, flatbread, a pot of hot soup and a compassionate tilt to her head. I headed to our small quarters and ate my dinner with my daughter and my husband and my parents and my grand and all the others I have lost. “What is this?” Lizabeth’s tiny voice startled me awake. I had fallen asleep sitting up at our tiny table. We only talk underground and we only whisper. Sound carries underground, sound carries in the quiet night. To be silent is to survive. Opening her sweater, my girl retrieved the red shiny card with a snowman holding a glittery candy cane. Her eyes grew wide while I explained greeting cards, visiting family, candy, wrapped presents, stockings, one horse open sleighs. Her eyes grew merry and bright as we whispered late into the night.

Nancy walked into the BonTon to take advantage of the going out of business sales and discounts. She never shopped there, but now all those expensive kitchen ware, women’s dress suits, and shoes would finally be in her price range. First she looked at the crockpots and air fryers. She found a programmable crockpot that was big enough to feed her family of four. The air fryers were almost sold out, but fortunately, a small, simple to use model made it into her cart. None of the business clothes were in her size, but she grabbed a nice cardigan. It was long and thickly woven- perfect for that drafty office she worked in. In the shoe department, she found a steal on leather booties. She was fortunate to find a pair in her size. A pair of flats caught her eye. They were so cute, she had to take them, too.

During the full moon, after midnight, a shape flew through it, that was not a plane.

Griselda landed in her usual parking spot and set the lock spell. It was a new broom with a nice big basket and she didn’t want anyone to get ideas.

She didn’t feel like shopping, but it really must be time. Gwendolyn really was a nice lady and she felt sorry for her.

The doors whisked open and revealed a wonderland.

A young man stood near the entrance, handing out sale circulars.

“Welcome to Witch, Warlock, and More. May I help you find anything?”

Griselda sighed and took the circular. The young man pushed her a cart.

“Thank you, dearie,” she said.

“Griselda!” a voice screeched from the reptile area.

“Hello, Endora.”

Endora shuffled over to give her friend a peck on the cheek. “So sad about Gwendolyn, isn’t it?”

“Awful. Such a long life.”

“What are you looking for?”

Griselda produced a list from her dress pocket.

“Candles. Linens. Sage. And I need something to wear.”

Endora’s newt appeared from her hair.

“Neville is having problems with his eyes, poor fella. I needed ointment for him. And I’m bringing some soothing herbs for the ritual.”

Endora’s attention was suddenly siezed.

“Ah - there is Tabitha,” she said and waved a hand. “I hope she doesn’t talk our ears off.”

“Griselda, Endora — I guess you are here because of our dear Gwen? Such a shame, don’t you think?”

The trio did enjoy shopping at WW&M. A one-stop shop for all their needs. Amazon wouldn’t deal in their realm and Griselda often wondered if that could even be done. So shopping had to be done the old-fashioned way, even in 2022.

Griselda filled her cart. A new frock and hat; some treats and a new heat lamp for her fenny snake, Bartholomew; replacement cauldron spoons; candles and linens; sage.

She loaded the broom basket with her items, and disappeared the same way through the moon.

The day had come. The wake was full of witches and warlocks. The little black coffin was set on a table in the middle of the room, candles surrounding it, along with flowers and photos.

Gwendolyn sat nearby, accepting condolences the best should could, but clearly barely holding it together.

“He was the best familiar a witch could ask for, Gwen dear.”

“I can only imagine your pain.”

“He’s in a better place.”

“You gave him the best forever home a cat could ask for.”

After the wake, the witches departed on their brooms to the Familiar Shelter. Because even witches prefer to adopt.

Shopping spree Poem by Elizabeth white

Going to shopping sprees can be. So weird . But so fun. Especially when they are random. You can find stuff that makes you not want to think of that person.

That you have tried so are hard not to think about. But hey. Shopping sprees can be. So weird. But so fun. Especially when they are random.

Elizabeth and hailee where sitting at house.

“Hey babe want to go shopping!?” Hailee asked excitingly.

“Sure we can go to the mall.” Elizabeth said getting up.

They both get up and go get ready then they drive to the mall.

Once’s then get there they go into the vans store.

They look around looking at all the shoes excitedly.

They go to Victoria’s Secret because hailee wanted to once they are done there they go to a couple more stores they go home.

“These shoes are to suck!” Elizabeth said excitedly looking at her shoes.

“Those are sick!” Hailee said looking at them.

They both look through everything excitedly.

“Hey Dan!”

As Dan turns around he sees his friends Jane and Vicky. Jane is holding a bright orb in her hand.

“What’s that?” he asks.

“I don’t know?” She responded.

“It’s a weird looking ball.” Vicky says.

One would suppose that shopping would include a tripe to the bank, but one would never imagine that shopping was a trip to the bank.

A bunch of new rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets. A bank box full of gold bullion, 2 bags of silver dollars, a bank box full of brand new old 2$ Bills as well as 5 bags of 20$ bills, 3 bags of 5o$ bills and a bag full of 100$ bills.

Connie was different from other people though then again with Bonnie and Clyde as parents you can imagine the chaos she thrived on.

Alix scribbled furiously on her holo pad.

“Emergency food supply: check. Wireless communication system: check. Protective clothes: check…”

Alix kept looking up at her hover cart, then back down at her writing.

Her cart was stacked with containers of non-perishable food, tent kits, hot-cold gear, communication devices, gas masks, and even some weapons. Other shoppers exchanged concerned glances as the young girl carted her towering haul to the checkout.

A small cashier drone floated over to her. “Good day, ma’am. May I be of assistance?” “Yeah, I need all this stuff scanned and loaded.” “Right away ma’am.”

As the drone was scanning the load out, Alix opened her holo receiver. “Al? Al where are you? I’m finished shopping, and you aren’t back at aisle 1-B like you promised.”

A-L’s mechanical face lit up on the holo projector, followed by the sound of his equally metallic voice. “You have reached A-L, serial number 5592G9B6384. If you are hearing this message, it means I’m busy ignoring you. Please leave a message.”

Alix stomped her foot in annoyance. “I know that’s you, Al!”

A-L’s photoreceptors dimmed in disappointment. “Ah, very well. I’m heading there now.”

Alix crossed her arms shifted her weight around.“Ugh, that robot sometimes…why does he have to wander off like that?”

After a few minutes, A-L came into view, with his own cart in tow.

Alix’s eyes widened. “What’s all that?!” The sudden outburst drew the attention of others waiting in line, who then tried to occupy themselves with something else.

A-L was shoving a cart with a mountain of books, that seemed to sway at the slightest breeze.

“Where’d all this come from?”

A-L’s eyes glowed. “They were throwing them away at the information section! Would you believe this whole collection costs only 50 credits?”

A-L’s joy and excitement at his discovery was almost contagious, but Alix held her stance. “Al, you know this isn’t in the budget.”

His photoreceptors flashed in shock. He was used to Alix giving in almost immediately. “What do you mean? If we take a bit from the emergency fund…”

“That for emergencies!”

“What if I go insane from sheer boredom? Does that not qualify as an emergency?”

Alix was unfazed. “No, now put it back.”

A-L processed before speaking again. “What is the necessity of all that, then?” He gestured to Alix’s massive collection of supplies.

“That’s for emergencies, too.”

A-L was skeptical. “We need 10 different tents? Are we harboring an army?”

Alix paused. “Well…what if one of them breaks?”

“Nine times?”

“It could happen!”

During all this, the cashier drone interjected almost sheepishly. “Excuse me…I’ve finished scanning.”

“See, Al? We just don’t have time to scan them in. We’d only be holding up everyone else. I told you when we came here, we need to stay on a tight budget this time, and only buy what’s on the list!”

“ID please.”

Alix fished through her pockets. “Oh no! My ID! I must’ve dropped it!” Alix scrambled off in the direction she had came, quickly dodging hover carts along the way.

“Oh dear…” A-L bended down to the floor. “…She dropped it right here.”

The cashier drone once again began the monotonous task of scanning every item in the massive pile.

A-L hummed contently. “I’m sure Alix will be pleased her identity has not been stolen. I think she’ll be quite happy to read some of the books I picked out as well.”

Rope.

Zip Ties.

Plastic draping.

Industrial Solvent.

Bleach.

Gloves.

Duct Tape.

Check, check, and check.

Martha tucks her list in her purse and pulls her cap lower, covering her face. With a push, the cart squeaks toward the checkout.

"Whoa!" The clerk glances at her items as she places them on the winding black belt, his adam's apple bobbing. "Pretty intense selection. Looks like something off of 20/20."

She smiles thinly, ensuring the cap still covered half her face, and points to the plastic tubing, black metal stakes, and thin envelopes of seeds. "Prepping for the tomato beds. Never too early to start planning."

He grins, unruly red curls falling into his eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

She pays cash and heads out into the afternoon sunshine. She stops at the green metal trash can and carefully shreds the recipe, sprinkling it in like salt.

She hums as she loads the car and sings along on the way home, tapping in time to the music. The day is crisp, a bright winter light, and the green hint of spring is in the air. The perfect day to set a plan in motion.

She bustles about the house and is in the garage when the aluminum door rolls up, and Jim, her husband of 17 years, drives in. He slams the door as he gets out. A whiff of alcohol trails behind him.

"What are you doing now?" Even with the space heater going, she can feel the heat radiating off him. Like always, Jim is not happy.

She keeps doing her task, mixing the soils together. "Prepping the tomato beds."

Jim frowns, glowering at her. "It's February."

She smiles, all teeth, "I'm growing them from seed this year." She points to her work bench and seed warming setup. She bends and continues filling the small plastic trays with dark, moist soil.

He grimaces, rolling his eyes. "You still have the canned tomatoes from last year. We're up to our goddamn eyeballs in it." He braces his hands on his hips. "Did you start dinner yet?"

"Already in the oven. Ready in twenty," she says, pressing the soil deep into the container. A heaviness sits between them, sharp and visceral. Something has to give.

She waits until Jim's heavy footfalls fade and the door to the house slams, the sound echoing. She smiles, for real this time. One round for me.

She precisely opens one tomato envelope. Beefsteak, red and delicious.

She plucks out a tiny seed, and drops it in the shallow indentation, and carefully covering it with soil.

In 7 weeks, the plant would have grown large enough to be outside, ready to face the elements.

"Pity," she thought, filling the last tray.

She was 100% positive that one of them wouldn't be alive to see the harvest. She continues in her task until the four trays are full and sorted neatly in the warmer.

She removed her gloves and swept up the fallen dirt into a small mound. Soon, everything was in its proper place.

Phase 1 complete.

She dusts off her hands and starts inside, shoulders back. After all, Jim's waiting.