Read responses to the October 2009 creative writing prompt, "Why I Stole It." Offer your own thoughts on their work, or try the
writing prompt for yourself. And thanks to everyone who shared their work here.
Ella was buckled in her car seat, a pile of toys at her elbow. I pulled the front door twice to make sure it was locked and slid in beside Mike. He glanced in my direction as he checked the rear-view mirror and started backing out of the driveway.
I had been stuck in this crummy town for the past two weeks and there was no end in sight. I’m not exaggerating. The Hubble Telescope would have had trouble spotting the expiration date of my West Coast exile.
“I wish I knew where I’d put my diet plan.” Fiona Fullarton was searching among the papers on her desk. “I was sure I put it with my exercise program.”
I had fallen asleep with my left shoe under my head. That shoe was a little less stinky than the right one, still coated with a layer of dog poop from the night before.
“Yeah, I stole it! And. So What,” LaQuanda* said shrugging her shoulders in defense to her three sisters. They paused for a moment but each one continued to place their dishes on the table for the evening’s family potluck in her tiny apartment.
I stare thirstily at the royal blue glazed pottery mug, eyes narrowing in predatory impulse. The odor drifting beneath my bedroom door has already awakened my sleepless desire. I lick my dry, rubbery lips, and inhale slowly, feeling my entire chest rise in cohesive agreement.
I placed the TV remote control in the middle of my kitchen table. It had 44 buttons—I’d counted them. Each of the buttons had a rubbery texture, and when you pressed one of them, you felt a subtle click beneath your finger.
"I'm going to let you choose one of these to be yours. FOREVER!!" the man before me smiled and his hand lifted a cloth and I can see two things in front of me. One was a touring package to India for two weeks and it's free.
In the beginning, there weren't clapping shutters on nights with no wind. There weren't books being flung at you from odd areas in the house. But, worst of all, that it or whatever it was in the attic just had to go.
I stole it right off the table. I had never taken anything before, but tonight I couldn’t help myself. From the moment it caught my attention, I was fascinated by it.
I was so excited I ran all the way home. I was convinced I was so smart, so grown up. I just wanted to make my brother proud of me.
I stole it because I needed it. I knew what I could get for it. I knew what I could trade it for. I wasn’t interested in turning objects into gold: I was interested in what gold could turn me into.
