Let the Writing Begin… Again

Last night the writer’s group reconvened, with mostly new members. I for one had a lovely time, it’s hard to go wrong with nice people who are eager to write. The format remained the same, a prompt is given and we have 20 minutes to use it however we’d like. The second prompt of the night was I didn’t know what was happening at the time. Here’s what I came up with.

Story by Genevieve

“If I knew how we got into this mess I would tell you. Honestly, I would.” Margaret said taking a sip of the tepid coffee in front of her. “I’d like to know myself.”

I sat back in the rickety café chair, my hands folded in my lap, watching her, waiting for her to continue.

I didn’t know what was happening at the time. Stuart said he’d had a great idea for a prank.”

“A prank?” I interrupted. How could anyone call this a prank?

Margaret shrugged self-consciously, her hands clasped around the mug trying to stop them from shaking. At least she knew how serious this had become. At least she was here talking to me, trying to explain. I scolded myself, I shouldn’t make her feel worse, she might leave, refuse to tell me any more.

“It was Stuart’s idea,” she went on rubbing her face, muffling the words slightly, “it was just supposed to be a small thing Sam. It was supposed to get a laugh. When he first told me about the envelope it seemed funny. I didn’t hear much more about it until things had gotten out of hand.”

Margaret was hunched forward chewing her lips, hands now pulled inside the arms of her hoodie worrying the material. She was almost as wrecked over this as I was.

“Shall we go somewhere else?” I asked noticing her eyes flitting around watching all the people coming and going with distrust. Her dark eyes focussed back on me, guilty with her role in all this. She nodded, quickly getting to her feet and leading the way out…

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