Your Move: Writing Prompt

May 3, 2016

Writing Club

Writing Prompt: "Your Move"   ( Yep, that's all we got!  See what you get in 20 minutes of writing.  It led to some pretty great stories in group.  Just jot down whatever comes to mind.)

The first thing Toby noticed upon reaching the doorway was the void of the room itself.  Painted a drab shade of gray and the concrete floor a variation of the same, her eyes made a quick round of the space.  Completely empty.  Where had the white rabbit gone? Had she only imagined it?  Surely as she drew breath, she’d seen it scamper around the corner, down the hall to dart into the room.  Curiously she set after it, in hopes of scooping it up so she could stuff it back down the top hat Harold had left on the bench centre stage.

“Look up!,” Toby heard.  Following the voice, Toby’s gaze rose.  There in the corner of the ceiling sat a simple wooden stool.  And tucked away underneath hid the white rabbit.  His albino pink eyes peered down at her.  Or did he look up at her.  Was she up or down?  With her confusion, Toby suddenly felt dizzy and stumbled forward into the space.  Then she was tumbling towards the ceiling or was it the floor.  
It had to have been that tall drink of water Harold had passed her just before his trick back fired and he sent her on this wild goose chase.  And now up was down and down was up and she was scraping herself off the ceiling.  
The rabbit, startled at her sudden arrival, scurried out from under the stool across the floor/ceiling just out of reach where Toby lay.  Looking back over to her as it reached the doorway, it leapt over the door frame and left the room.  Trembling on the floor, or was it the floor, Toby watched the white ball of fur hop down the dark hallway to disappear into inky black.  
Pulling herself to stand on shaky legs, she slowly rose and crossed the room.  With a struggle, she pulled herself up to the door frame.   It seemed much higher than before, with a huge heave, she was up and over the lintel and suddenly falling into darkness towards a wooden surface. 

            Her hand brushed against velvet as she tumbled and she grabbed on for dear life.  Light came from the beside her and there she was with a plop head over heels, tangled in a red curtain clear as day in the spotlight.  Harold stood on the stage holding the white rabbit by the scruff.  It wiggled it’s nose contemptuously.

“It’s your move.” Harold laughed as he quickly stuffed the rabbit back in the large black top hat resting on the stage.