STORY STARTER

‘Finding a way into tricky situations has never been a problem for me – although I still haven’t learned the art of getting out of them.’

Write a short story that opens with this line. Why does this character make this remark?

The Green Box

‘Finding a way into tricky situations has never been a problem for me - but I haven’t quite mastered the art of getting out of them’


I guess I should explain, 3 years ago I was binge watching my favorite show at 3:00 am which also happened to be a thriller, when I heard the knock on my door, which was strange since I lived in a small, peaceful town and none of us bothered each other this late at night. Out of curiosity I opened it, but no one was there just a small, glowing green box in the darkness. I know that no sensible person would ever have opened a mysterious, glowing box from a shady person at night, and I don’t know if it was the adrenaline coursing through my veins or the feeling of excitement from the tv show that made me open it. Inside the box was a dusty ring at the center of which was a gem that looked like an emerald. I took it out of the box and put it on. As my feet quietly padded down the stairs toward my bedroom I examined the ring. I noticed that someone had intricately carved a snake onto the gem. I lay on my bed with my heart pounding. I barely slept that night, not out of fear but because of the questions swirling in my head. “Where did the ring come from?”, “Who left it here?”, “Why did they leave it here?”. As the thoughts circled my mind, it started, the feeling of doom spreading from my heart towards my toes. However nothing happened the entire night…


The next morning though, was a different story. After breakfast I was at the door and walked past my potted orchids. When they literally spontaneously combusted. Like they exploded into a confetti like substance which settled in the air in a dense cloud. I snapped my head around and watched. I immediately remembered the ring I was wearing and tried taking it off but it wouldn’t budge. Panicked, I tried everything I could think of to get it off, oiled my finger, put soap on it, tried to coax it off, but nothing worked. I decided to shake it off and head to work. When I got there I met my boss who asked me why I was so late. I told him that the most strange thing happened. I explained the events of that morning. He shook his head and asked me to prove it. He lead my to his office and asked me to stroll past his thriving daffodil, so i did. His eyes bulged so far out of his head that I thought they would fall out. His jaw nearly touched the floor. He was speechless for a moment. Then he asked, “WHAT WAS THAT!” I merely shrugged. He started wringing his hands. Then he took deep breaths, and decided to do the same thing as me, to move on. I went back to work. He stared as I made my way back to my desk.


As I weaved my way through the cubicles leading toward the exit my boss called me back. I took a deep breath and turned around. I followed him outside. As we were walking down the cobblestone street we passed a black cat. The cat turned into a living grenade, but instead of its confetti hanging in the air like the plants they blew up and away. “Okay,” said my boss, “what is happening.” “I don’t know,” I admitted truthfully. He sighed and asked to see my hand. I showed him the hand without the ring on it. He then asked for the other one. Miraculously, there was no ring on it either. When he didn’t see anything suspicious he just told me he’d see me tomorrow. I made my way home without encountering anything or anyone. The rest of the day passed without any problems whatsoever. As I went to bed I thought about how I always got myself in trouble.


The next morning I was thinking about the stressful situation I was stuck in when my neighbor interrupted my depressing thoughts. “Natalie,” she called out. “Yes, Miss Everard,” I exclaimed. “Have you seen my cat lately?” she asked. “What does it look like?” I questioned. “It’s a plain black cat,” she replied. “No wh-,” I was about to finish when I remembered the events of that evening with a sinking feeling in my chest. “No, Miss Everard, I lied. I was too stressed to go to work, so I called in sick. My boss told me to get better soon.


(Present day) Now I’m too scared to go outside and I’m living off instant ramen from my emergency stash, and I dread the day it runs out. I also wonder if I’ll ever get this ring off.

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