The alarm came from somewhere far away and entered my consciousness like a bolt from a crossbow. I’m trying hard to turn it off before another bolt out of the blue finds its mark. Silence is golden, and the only sound now is the cracking of my knees as I make motions to begin the day.
Getting to the coffee reminded me of someone crossing the arctic ice in their bare feet. It’s hell to get old, is the thought of the morning. But, the aroma of the brewing cup brought a new thought, it’s great to be alive.
A few sips and the memory bell rang its Westminster chime. The tune accompanied a lyric, ‘Is the box still on the driveway from last week?’ Rushing to the front door for a look, I was crestfallen. (I still don’t know where my crest is) To help my dubious fortune, the box is still there. Now, you may wonder why it took a week to discover the status of the box? You see, in the age of COVID, I have become a virus recluse. “No use going to the front of the house if I’m not going anywhere” is my motto.
I carefully opened the door and walked out to the box. To give you an idea of its size, it was a perfect cube that came up to my shoulder. So that makes it about five feet cubed. While I was looking for clues on who I could call to get rid of it, I felt a tap on my backside. Turning around, I came face to face with a coyote. One that was standing on his hind legs and holding out a card. I took the card and glanced at it. ‘Wile E. Coyote Esq.’ was the only thing printed on it. The card was embossed and had a high cotton content level, but I digress.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. “When are you going to take possession of this box?”
He looked at me. I looked at him. He made a rotation gesture with his hand. I didn’t catch his meaning until he pointed at the card. I flipped it over, and on the back was written. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fortune.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
If you want to ‘enjoy,’ visit Linda’s post and read how easy it is. Here is the link.
Fortune by John W. Howell ©2022
“Here, we took all that time and still don’t know what’s in the box.”
“Well, it takes a while to give all the information.”
“Like the freaking card is made of cotton?”
“High cotton content.”
“Whatever. What was the bit about your crest?”
“That word always makes me wonder. So I looked it up one time, and its origins may be that when roosters don’t feel well, their crest folds over.”
“No one cares. We want to know what is in that box.”
“I would love to tell you, but I don’t know. Maybe a fortune teller could help you out.”
“So you bring in that stupid cartoon coyote?”
“Always good for a laugh.”
“You a stand-up comic now?”
“No, but humor is one element of a story.”
“And the other is telling us what is in the box.”
“Okay, it is dynamite.”
“No. I don’t know.”
“Why’d you say dynamite?”
“To get you to think of something else.”
“Your turn to buy.”
“Not till I know what’s in the box.”
“I’ll buy then.”
“Forget the box. Let’s go.”
“You are so easy it scares me.”
“Smart, though. My brains are my fortune.”
“A small fortune indeed.”