Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Skeleton In Your Closet - Literally

“Honey, have you seen my briefcase?”
            I looked at my wife through the mirror that hung above the bureau in our bedroom. “Have you seen my briefcase?” I repeated, this time more slowly so she wouldn’t miss a word. “I put it on the chair last night, remember? So I wouldn’t forget it for my interview?”
            “Yeah, I remember. I just don’t know where it is,” she said, smothering her face back into the pillows and away from the light that I had flicked on.
            I spun around to face her. “Well, when I got up this morning I noticed that it wasn’t there- so unless a ghost ran off with it someone must’ve moved it.” I waited for her to get the hint.
            “Maybe a ghost did run off with it,” came the muffled response. I sighed and, still in only my boxers, hurried out of the bedroom to scour the rest of the house. Foyer, living room, kitchen. I checked all of the places where my wife could have moved the briefcase out of absentmindedness. Then I checked all of the places where she could have moved it out of spite. Neither search proved fruitful.
            Dejected, I decided that I would just print out another copy of my resume and carry it in a folder, even if it looked less professional. At this point it didn’t matter- the important thing was to get to the interview on time, and I wasn’t even dressed yet. I ran into the bathroom to shower and shave and then raced back to the bedroom to get dressed, towel flapping around my waist. But when I opened the armoire to get my suit out I nearly fell flat on my face.
            Staring back at me out of the darkness of the wardrobe was a creamy white skeleton, six feet tall, and fully clothed in my interview suit and power tie. In one hand it was clutching my briefcase. I dropped the towel to the ground and let out a yelp.
            “Why are you screaming?” my wife said, sitting up now to admonish me. “And why are you naked?” I looked at her, dumbfounded, then to the skeleton, then back to her, then down at my exposed midsection. I picked up the towel and looked back at my wife, who had her eyebrows raised.
            “Ummm…” I said, “I found my briefcase,” and shut the armoire door.


This post was based off of the following writing prompt: When you go to get dressed one morning, you discover that there really is a skeleton in your closet. Write this scene—discover how it got there, why it is there, what to do with it now. Link: http://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/skeleton-in-your-closest-literally

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