A short story based on a prompt done in 30 minutes

Hi, before we begin with this short story I have to explain why it exists. I used to do these exercises called “The 30 Minute Rule” where someone would give me two sentences and then I had 30 minutes to write a beginning middle and end to a story. This prompt was sent to me by my friend Kim.

In truth I haven’t read this since I wrote it, so it could be really bad. But here it is. We can discover the level of poop this story is together. (Also there’s likely some references to things that wouldn’t be well known outside of California and during a specific time period… like Gaskells or Labyrinth of Jareth ball.

One other thing, this was written well over 20 years ago. So there’s that. Also noticed this one was a fail because I didn’t use “There is a black car in the driveway” oh well.

The prompt:

“There is a black car in the driveway. The red ball rolled under the docks at the beach.”

There is a time in everyone’s life, or so it’s said, when they must ball their hand into a fist, wave it at the sky, and say, “FUCK IT!” and this had become one of those days.

She had been working on the Victorian gown for months and had planned to debut her work at this evening’s Gaskell Ball, mostly to make sure that the gown could hold up. Later she planned to add fantasy aspects to it for her visit to Labyrinth of Jareth.

The plan had fallen apart, however, when she arrived at the hall where the dance was to be held to find a large note on the door and several very well-dressed patrons in Victorian garb standing around debating what to do.

The note on the door read, “For those who didn’t check the forum before coming out, there was an unfortunate incident, and we will not be able use this facility for the Ball this week. Please check the forums for more information and possible relocation.”

She looked at the sign again, then shrugged her shoulders, clenched her eyes closed, taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then let out a sigh. It wasn’t that big of a deal normally, but she had put a lot of time and effort into getting this getup together for this. Then, with a smile, she turned to the others who had gathered around and looked rather lost and thought about the situation.

With a tinge of evil glee, she suggested to those around her that it was still daylight and Beach Boardwalk was only 40 minutes away. Several politely excused themselves and left, but three of the Gaskell orphans liked the idea and suggested they quickly go and change.

“No, that’s the idea,” she said, “let’s go dressed like this!”

The others were not at all keen on the idea of going somewhere in their Victorian dress with sand and water. She quickly suggested that they didn’t have to go into the sand or water. The boardwalk was always dry, and they could use the opportunity to bring some much-needed attention to the Ball. Still not entirely convinced, the others did agree but made it clear they would not be going into the sand.

A little less than 40 minutes later, they arrived. Daylight saving time had all but guaranteed that there would still be people there despite the fact it was moving towards evening now. The sounds of the mighty wooden roller coaster and the screams of its passengers filled the air like the scent of the sea it overlooked.

As they walked, many looked at them, some probably thinking they were in some way part of the attraction, others just stared, not knowing what to think of the sight. In all, though, most of the people whom they passed by gave approving glances at the group.

One little girl stopped for a moment as she chased her red ball to take a look at the strangely dressed people. She didn’t say a word, just smiled and continued to kick and chase her red ball under the docks and out of sight.

Eventually they made their way to the wooden roller coaster, and each in turn took their seats and waited for the thrill ride to begin. As the coaster made its first plunge downward at breakneck speed, she could feel the hairpin that had held her hair in a tight bun become dislodged and fly away, leaving her long red hair to unravel and fly wildly with the coaster in its turns.

Eventually, though, the ride came to its conclusion, and with it the small group decided they had had enough excitement for one day, and each in turn hugged the others, and the small group went its separate ways.

She smiled as she watched them all get in their cars and drive off. She could hear the sound of the roller coaster behind her and the screams and laughs of those behind her.

“Fuck it,” she said, and turned back and got back in line to ride again.