Writing Prompt

I open my door to the world, and the townhouse across street can look in, the cold autumn wind can feel my walls and columns, and the saturday football game can be heard by anyone walking past on the street. I’m close and cramped with the other houses on the streets-no side yard for me! We’re all very cozy, I suppose. However, I keep a special basement reserved just for me. I won’t tell you what it looks like, because only I’m supposed to know. 

You only know that it is deep underground.

It is separated by my tissue and concrete walls.

Only I know what triggers the stairs.

And maybe, just maybe, it looks very different from how I’ve decorated the living room.

Yes, all the neighborhood dogs can smell the pumpkin pie baking through and through in my oven. The carpet’s newly vacuumed. All my sweaters are unpacked and are in piles of cream and squash yellow and pink blush. The furniture is polite and quiet. Nothing is reserved.

The wind blows in drags its fingers over the carpet, hugs me, then steals the sweet scent of home and carries it back out. We’re all very happy and cozy on my street.



Sorry this one is so short! I’m taking a new system of prompts out for a test drive.




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