Hello again! Its Day 6 of the 31 days challenge and I am using the prompt given by Writers Write to help me write for this challenge.
Well as you can see below the prompt for today is to write about my favorite. Now I cannot do that because I do not have any favorite chair! So what do I do? Simple, I create a character who has a favorite chair.
My Prized Possession
After almost more than four months of constant nagging by my mother I finally decided to climb up the attic and clear all the junk I saved since I was two years old. That means I have spend at least a fortnight or even more to sort of the stuff. With my penchant for saving every thing tiny I like, I am sure the attic would be cramped.
Damn! The dust here is so suffocating, I'll have to climb up and open the skylight. Sigh!
After Three Hours...
Oh my! I found it! This is my most favorite and lucky chair since I was three years old. My grandma gave it to me on my birthday saying that a princess like me deserved a right chair to sit on. It was a simple wooden chair with intricate carving on the high back and a soft velvety cushion on the seat.
It was a mini replica of the William & Mary Chair and I feel in love with it. For years I sat only on that chair; we carried it to beaches, campfires and family holidays. I even took my afternoon nap in that chair, much to the distress of my mother.
Then my brother was born and I chose the chair over him. Oh! I enjoyed playing with him until he did not start demanding to sit on my chair. We would fight and I won always. But then one day, he won and I knocked him on his head. Poor fellow, he still has the scar I gave him that day.
It was after the fateful incident, that my father decided to donate my darling chair to someone. And the result, I cried and cried and got myself sick. He relented a little and my chair was shifted to the attic.
I used to silently climb upstairs and sit on it when others were busy in their work. But as years passed by, my priorities changed and so my visits to the attic became rare. Now I am home after eight years and it has been almost thirteen years since I last saw my chair.
It sat proud in a corner of the attic, covered in inches of dust. It took me another hour to clean it completely. I sat gingerly testing its strength, but the caution wasn't necessary. My chair was still strong and comfortable. Okay, not that comfortable but I can sit on it without falling down.
Taking it downstairs, I proudly display my prized possession. My mother sighed as my father laughed and my brother glared. Looks like he hasn't forgiven me for knocking him, yet. Well no worries, I'll let him sit on it tonight, if he wants to.
Hope you enjoyed reading the story. Keep visiting for more stories.
Well as you can see below the prompt for today is to write about my favorite. Now I cannot do that because I do not have any favorite chair! So what do I do? Simple, I create a character who has a favorite chair.
My Prized Possession
After almost more than four months of constant nagging by my mother I finally decided to climb up the attic and clear all the junk I saved since I was two years old. That means I have spend at least a fortnight or even more to sort of the stuff. With my penchant for saving every thing tiny I like, I am sure the attic would be cramped.
Damn! The dust here is so suffocating, I'll have to climb up and open the skylight. Sigh!
After Three Hours...
Oh my! I found it! This is my most favorite and lucky chair since I was three years old. My grandma gave it to me on my birthday saying that a princess like me deserved a right chair to sit on. It was a simple wooden chair with intricate carving on the high back and a soft velvety cushion on the seat.
Then my brother was born and I chose the chair over him. Oh! I enjoyed playing with him until he did not start demanding to sit on my chair. We would fight and I won always. But then one day, he won and I knocked him on his head. Poor fellow, he still has the scar I gave him that day.
It was after the fateful incident, that my father decided to donate my darling chair to someone. And the result, I cried and cried and got myself sick. He relented a little and my chair was shifted to the attic.
I used to silently climb upstairs and sit on it when others were busy in their work. But as years passed by, my priorities changed and so my visits to the attic became rare. Now I am home after eight years and it has been almost thirteen years since I last saw my chair.
It sat proud in a corner of the attic, covered in inches of dust. It took me another hour to clean it completely. I sat gingerly testing its strength, but the caution wasn't necessary. My chair was still strong and comfortable. Okay, not that comfortable but I can sit on it without falling down.
Taking it downstairs, I proudly display my prized possession. My mother sighed as my father laughed and my brother glared. Looks like he hasn't forgiven me for knocking him, yet. Well no worries, I'll let him sit on it tonight, if he wants to.
Hope you enjoyed reading the story. Keep visiting for more stories.
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