Writing Prompt: It has a very short shelf life.

The rain has returned. The park near my house just managed to get above water too. I’m guessing it is once again submerged. Yesterday I went on a walk in the park thinking that as most of the water receded it would be find. There was one section that had about an inch of very viscous mud coating it. It turns out that the little air holes on the sides of my sneakers acted as little mud vacuums. I know walking with weights is sometimes recommended, but I didn’t quite think that is what they meant. My socks looked like I was trying to make weird plaster casts of my feet. Sneakers and socks both got chucked into the washing machine for a bit and now all is well. Luckily feet wash up well in the shower. But that was yesterday. I doubt today the park will be passable. So it is a day of writing. Let’s get started with the morning writing prompt then, shall we?

This feels like something I might want to play around with later. I’m not sure what will become of it, but it is something I think I will revisit sometime. Not quite where i thought it was going when I began typing though. I was expecting something like the anti-twinkie.

Wednesday March 31st: It has a very short shelf life.

It has a very short shelf life,” he warned me as he handed me the box.  “If you plan to use it, you have only until the next full moon.”

I nodded as I took the box from him, gently cradling it in my hands as though it were a live grenade with a loose pin.  I wasn’t certain I wanted it in the first place, now I was even less certain.

“What happens if I don’t use it before the next full moon?”  I couldn’t resist asking as I eyed the box.

“It will become increasingly…unpredictable,” he answered.  I flicked my eyes up to him.  He looked at me and shrugged.  “Eventually it will do nothing at all.”

“But it will be unpredictable after the next full moon?”


“So what should I do with it if I decide not to use it?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hair line in surprise. Given his hair had already retreated to a safe distance it was quite the climb.

“Surely I can’t be the only one to ask that,” I said.

“Actually I believe you are,” he replied.  “Usually once someone comes this far they have already decided to use it.” He studied me. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with his gaze.  “Do you not intend to use it?” He asked.  The tone was mildly curious.  I relaxed slightly, please he wasn’t angry about the possibility of wasted time.

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

He tilted his head slightly to the side. I noticed that one of his eyes was blue and the other green.  The blue was a watery, almost clear blue as if most of the color had been washed out over time, but the green was as vibrant as an emerald held to the noon sun. It was disconcerting But I hid my nerves and returned his gaze.

The corners of his mouth witched in what I thought might almost have been a smile. It was certainly humor although I couldn’t tell if it was the kind I was supposed to take offense to.  I was never good at taking the expected offense that others thought I should. 

“If you don’t use it bring it back to me,” He finally decided.  “Magical items should not be left to linger when their use is no longer needed.  And here I can deal with the unpredictability better than where you will be going.”

“You know where I am going?” I asked.  I tried not to let my relief show.  If I decided not to use the item he crafted at least it would not be left to cause mischief elsewhere.

“I have my suspicious,” he replied.

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