Good morning all. I hope you are ready to jump into Thursday. Personally i woke before my alarm and then realized how cold it was outside of my little knot of blankets and then spent the five minutes until my alarm actually ent off trying to convince myself that i needed to go ahead and get up. The matter was decided when I turned off the alarm and cold air slipped in and I realized i needed to use the restroom. I was surprisingly awake, I just was too comfortable to get up. But up I am now, so lets get into today’s writing prompt. Are you ready? Fantastic, let’s go.
Okay I like this one. No idea where it is going, but I like the thought behind this. I’m going to have to think about it a bit more though.
Thursday, January 26th: It was a Tuesday.
It was a Tuesday. Nothing ever happened on a Tuesday. Tuesdays were plain, boring days. Monday was the day you spent wishing the weekend lasted longer and trying to get back in the work mode frame of mind. Wednesdays you knew you had reached the middle of the week. Thursdays you might meet friends for drinks and talk about what you were going to do over the weekend. Friday kicked off the weekend.
Tuesday was the only day where there was nothing planned. Sure there might be a Taco Tuesday to tempt you out of your dinner rut, but that was a quick bounce out of your way on the way home. No one planned to go out on Tuesday. It was the forgotten day of the week.
And yet Tuesday was when Angie’s world fell apart.
She remembered it clearly, even though everything before was a little hazy and everything after was a blur. She remembered clearly thinking, ‘This can’t be happening, it’s a Tuesday.’
But it seemed Franklin Masterson had little respect for weekday tradition. Not that she had actually met Franklin Masterson. No she met his lawyer. An unassuming man named Earl Watson. He was short, bespeckled and balding with a slight paunch and a tendency to waddle.
He apologized profusely for bringing such a surprise into her life without warning and then handed her the paperwork. She managed only the first two sentences before the strange car turned into the street in front of her house.
“Do you know them?” Watson asked.
“No,” Angie replied.
Watson nodded and stepped into the house pulling the door shut and locking it behind him.
“Best go out the back door, sharpish now. Take the papers, questions later.”
Somehow he managed to get her quickly through the house and out of the back door. They were at the back gate when she recovered herself.
“What exactly is going on?” she asked. Before he could answer there was the distinct sound of broken glass and when she looked back it appeared smoke was filling her living room. She started to turn but Watson grabbed her arm and propelled her out of the back gate.
“My car is parked on the street over,” he told her hoarsely. “I’ll answer questions once we are in motion. They kept to the tree line and made it through the gate and into the neighbors yards. They kept going, reaching his car and sliding inside.
Behind them was something that sounded disturbingly like gunfire. It sounded as though it was coming from her house. She looked over the back seat towards her house as Watson piloted them out of the neighborhood, avoiding her street. She saw people wearing gasmasks entering her house.
‘It is a Tuesday,’ she thought somewhat indignantly. ‘This sort of thing doesn’t happen on a Tuesday.’
Angie turned around in her seat as Watson turned onto the main thoroughfare. Even though he promised answers she could see he was tight and stiff and she decided to wait until it looked as though he was breathing again. As she waited she thought about what she saw. She was still indignant about it being a Tuesday but she couldn’t actually figure out what day such an event belonged to. It certainly didn’t seem like something that belonged in her life. It wasn’t until they were surrounded by traffic that Watson began to relax and breathe calmly.
Ten til Midnight 