Sunday, August 10, 2014

Crumbs of Curiosity: Part 1 of 10


Preface: The following short story is the result of a spontaneous effort to find a writing prompt so I could ignite my discipline for writing again. I came across one about a mystery cookie and it seemed like one I could have fun with. As it turns out, I had a lot of fun and I invited my best-pal Dustin along for the ride. We ended up taking turns writing the story and we're both proud of the final product. The most exciting aspect about writing this story is that we did not share any of our thoughts or ideas of how we wanted the story to progress. We were each left with the challenge of continuing each other's creativity.  Enjoy! 

Prompt: One Day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find another cookie. This continues for months until one Day a different object is left—and this time there’s a note.

Crumbs of Curiosity 

Dylan Trout growled under his breath. Clenching his briefcase as hard as he felt life held him, he headed towards the elevator that would slowly, but surely take him and drop him at the twenty-fourth floor. The start of another mundane day.
His mood contrasted the day. A complete mismatch down to his gray suit and gray tie. But one would never know it walking into Trout’s office. With blinds drawn, not a drop or ounce of sunshine filtered through. Light and all things on the family tree of joy and happiness were shunned from Dylan Trout’s life. The accountant known for his mediocre work and grim demeanor would spend the next eight hours like he spent every morning and every night for the last eleven years – alone.
Today, the summer solstice, was no different. Actually that’s not entirely true. Dylan Trout expected his train ride to his place of employment followed by an elevator lift to his cell to be just like any other day. But he soon realized it wasn't.
Every day before Dylan would leave work he would spend twenty minutes making sure everything – everything – was in place. All papers filed, all pencils sharpened and in their holder, stapler restocked and all dust and miscellaneous marks wiped accumulated through the day cleared away with the only item on top of his desk was his dreaded phone.
So on the morning of the summer solstice when Dylan Trout exited the elevator on the twenty-fourth floor and unlocked his door before entering his office that’s exactly what he found – all papers filed, all pencils sharpened and in their holder, stapler restocked and all dust and miscellaneous marks wiped and cleared away with the only item on top of his desk being his dreaded phone…and something else.
The something else made Dylan Trout stop dead in his tracks – some would say he was already dead – because he noticed it the very second he opened his door after unlocking it.
There was no sign of a forced entry. No note. Not even a flashing red light indicating someone left a message telling him of this thing on his desk.
Thawing from his frozen stance, Dylan set down his briefcase, slowly sat on his swivel chair and stared at the cookie before him.

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