Hi, So I have an idea for a prompt I'd like to do? It'll be done (probably) sometime in autumn, 'cause I go to a tech-free sleepaway camp and go way in summer along with that. Anyways, my prompt idea I'd like to do is: Book(s?) that when you open them, instead of a story, it transports you to a shop/place in the town that is only acsessible by the book (or the strange people who live there). Is that okay? Thanks!  Also, this sounds sooooooo cool! (Also like the ad)

How's this? It's only 677 words long, sorry, I can rework it if there's any problems.

Candy Apple

By Periwinkle

My town has never been normal,

If you're looking closely.

Glowing stones,

Ropes to the sky,

Gossiping flowers—

Gram used to say “it’s all wrong,

But it’s home, so I don’t mind much.” 

Of course, Gram doesn’t say anything

Anymore,

And I can’t decide if that makes her old words

More or less valuable,

More or less believable,

More or less anything or everything, nothing at all,

Or maybe just all of the above.

Not that it matters much.

Point is she doesn’t talk now.

But I've got a plan, a really good plan,

That just might get her to talk to me again. 

Tonight is the night. 

Just an hour to go before the carnival begins. 

Cassie arrives early, as usual,

Frizzy, bright red hair flying everywhere,

Big brown eyes wide with excitement.

She holds a box of makeup in her hands

And has a few different outfits slung over her arms

For us to try on.

We giggle as she attempts to help me 

Put on the weird black eyeliner.

“Sit still, Ruby," she tells me.

She lets me borrow her watercolor flower dress

And I let her borrow my colorful striped skirt.

“We’ll be the talk of the town in these outfits,”

Cassie says, and I agree.

Then we head down to Strange and Stranger Park.

That’s where the carnival is.

It’s very busy because the carnival is only once a year,

And everyone wants to go.

The big purple Ferris wheel covered in bright lights 

Is Cassie’s favorite part,

But I know she can’t resist a good funnel cake too.

I’m excited to go on the rides and try the games,

But there’s one thing that simply cannot wait.

“You go on without me,” I say to Cassie,

Who’s very eager to get on the Ferris wheel.

She runs off, her skirt flowing in the wind,

To the ride.

I run in the other direction.

I have to find the candy apple stand

Before they run out of their famous,

One-of-a-kind green apple treat.

Gram loves those candy apples.

I’m sure if she gets to have one she’ll start talking again.

I finally find the stand, illuminated by neon lights.

One apple left.

Phew.

The olive skinned man in a green velvet suit 

With a matching top hat

Smiles down at me. 

“You made it just in time,” he says,

Handing me the apple as I pay him 50 cents.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Until next year.” He tips his hat.

I’m on my way back to the Ferris wheel

When I hear crying.

Behind the Ring Toss stand, a boy 

Sits alone, wiping his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

He pauses and looks up at me.

“My grandma died,” he sniffs eventually.

“We used to come to this carnival every year,

But… Not anymore.”

“Oh.” 

I feel guilty all of a sudden.

Here I was, so worried about getting 

My old Gram back, that I didn’t even stop to think

How much worse it could be. 

“What did you do with your grandma?”

I ask him, hoping to make him feel better.

“We’d do the Balloon Dart Throw together first,”

He recalls, “But we could never win. I bet it was rigged.

Then we’d go on the Ferris wheel. And we always got candy apples.

That was my favorite part.”

I’m quiet because I’m realizing something.

I’m not going to get the old Gram back.

But I need to stop seeing that as a bad thing.

She’s not gone. She’s just different. And she still loves me.

I give a little sigh, then I ask the boy,

“Would you like my candy apple?”

His eyes get big.

“R-really?” 

“Yeah. Maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

He takes the apple.

“Wow. Thank you so much.”

“No problem,” I say.

Then I turn around to go find Cassie, laughing

Because only in a town that’s all wrong but still home

Would you find a carnival where the candy apples are

A metaphor for life.

Reuby, your art is captivating! I <3 it.

This is so brilliant and cool!! Can I join? I'm not quite sure which prompt I would use. Is there any prompt you really want to be used? I'm open to whatever story you need!

I got the next part of my story done!

“Yup. Here at last!” I smile. “Just in time for you to do me a favor.”

Nikola fake-groans. “A favor? I have to do stuff? So that’s why you were so cryptic! You knew I wouldn’t agree.”

“Of course! The fact that you won’t believe me when I tell you the problem has nothing to do with it.”

“Wait,” Nikola stops, narrowing here eyes, “What do you mean, I won’t believe you?”

“Weeeelllll,” I say, building suspense. “I got an invitation to the Eternal Enigma.”

“No! You’re joking!” she breathes, cat ears twitching from restrained excitement.

I reach my hand into my bag. “See, I have it here.” Except that I do not have it here. It isn’t in the pocket anymore. I look at Nikola. “I swear I’m not joking. I had it, here in my bag, and it’s gone.”

It’s almost funny watching her whiplash, going from ‘all my dreams come true’ to ‘all my dreams are crushed.’ After she finally comes to terms with the problem, she starts doing what she does best: talking until a solution presents itself.

“So you definitely had it when you left home?” I answer her question in the affirmative.

“Did you make sure you didn’t drop it along the way?” 

“Actually, no. The reason I was late is because the sidewalks were so crowded today,” I respond.

“Why didn’t you take the Ever bus?” asks Nikola.

I frown. “It didn’t show up in front of my apartment building, and I didn’t see it while walking.”

Nikola pats my shoulder in sympathy. “That bus is so useful yet so annoying. But anyway, do you think someone stole the invitation?”

I shrug. “If so, they left my cell phone and Oreos, and if they wanted the invitation, they’d either have to read it in the street to see what it was or know I had it ahead of time, so. . .” I trail off.

“Good point. Well, I’m out of ideas then,” she sighs.

“I probably just dropped it. I’ll never find it on the busy street, and someone’s going to pick it up eventually.” Nikola and I gaze at each other in abject disappointment.

Later, at home, I can’t sleep. Where is the card? I lie on my bed, lazily tossing a rubber ball up in the air and catching it, thinking about the lost invitation. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, although I never really thought I’d actually go. This type of adventure always seemed like too much of a fantasy, not something that could actually happen. 

I sit up, intending to grab a quick snack, when a knock on my apartment door startles me. Why is anyone visiting at . . . I look at my phone: twelve pm. It’s so bright outside I can’t quite make anyone out through the peephole. Technically, they aren’t outside, but my apartment building has huge windows for whatever reason, so I can barely see. I open the door. 

“Did you drop this?” a voice says. They hold out a flat object. I take it, gesture them inside, and close the door, behind which I find relief from the painful brightness.

I glance at the paper I was given. It’s my invitation! “Thank you!” I say, smiling.

“I just found it right outside your door,” the boy says. He looks to be around sixteen or seventeen. “I live up the hallway from you, and I was leaving for the day shift when I almost tripped on it!” he laughs.

I thank him again, and then he says that he should get to work, or his boss will be mad. “Thank you again.” I hold open the door for him to leave. I’m ecstatic that the card has been found! I shoot off a quick text to Nikola, take a shower, and basically collapse into bed.

I wake to my phone buzzing. Shoving off the heavy bedclothes, I sit up and press ‘accept call’.

“Nikola?”

Delighted screeching is my response. “You got it back!” she exclaims.

“Yeah, I know. But I have to go to work? It’s Thursday, remember.”

“Oh, sorry, I was just so excited!”

I laugh. That’s Nikola. “Goodbye.”

“Bye! Good luck at the restaurant!”

After I arrive home for dinner, I call Nikola back. “Hey, it’s Rune. What should I wear for the Eternal Enigma? I need a costume, and it’s on Halloween.”

My friend, used to my lack of preamble, lists off ideas. “Ringmaster, black cat, masquerade costume, detective, witch, wizard, frog.”

I like the ringmaster idea. It’d be fun to wear the red and gold getup.

Not an update for the current story, but another one I started bc I couldn't think of any ideas (and yes, if you've already written a story, you may now write a second if you'd like).

Snuffed out Candle

This place is dark. And stifling. At least I have extra batteries and a tiny portable fan. When planning an urban exploration trip, especially if I’m going into the Lower Streets, I try to anticipate every possible problem. Obviously, I can’t predict everything, but making sure I have plenty of extra supplies has gotten me out of so many scrapes.

Today, well, tonight by now, I’m exploring some corridors and rooms I found beneath the Upper Streets. This (admittedly quite small) network was completely sealed off, without even a single air duct connecting it to either the Upper or Lower Streets.

On one wall of Hill Top Road L, there was a yellow door boarded up with partially decayed wood and rusty nails. It had either been there a long time, or someone thought it was a good idea to use materials someone could easily break with their bare hands. I, desperate for something interesting, did just that—there weren’t any “private property” or “no trespassing” signs, so . . .—and tore the boards away from the wall.

And now, I’m wandering the corridors and rooms without a single light but my flashlight. Everything is drenched in a thick layer of dust. I don’t think anyone’s been in here since it was hidden away and presumably forgotten. There isn’t even a single mark in the dust, apart from my own footprints.

My flashlight beam illuminates a table--looks like an antique, maybe I could get some money for that?—and an otherwise empty room. There isn’t even a ceiling lightbulb recess or rug. The floor is just more concrete like the walls and ceiling. 

These passages are so much more claustrophobic than the Lower Streets; which, though underground, have spacious streets, shop fronts, bus stops, and four-story apartments alike. The sealed passages are like a house made entirely of liminal space that was abandoned before it was properly furnished. Or wired. The creepiest thing about all of this is probably the lack of cobwebs or other signs of living things. Of course, logically I understand it’s because nothing can live inside an airtight space, but still. I don’t like it.

I exit the room with the solitary table. The next room is technically a hallway, just as dusty and empty as everything else here. Five doors, two on each side of the corridor, and one at the end, are set into the walls. I select one at random and carefully push it until it becomes unstuck. Except that it doesn’t. I turn the knob and find that the door is locked. Weird. Not a single other door was locked like this. Of course, the entrance to this maze was boarded up and painted over, but it wasn’t locked.

As the mechanism is quite old, I force it and shove it open. This room is already lit. None of the other rooms had any lights, either. Against one wall, an antique-style vanity with a mirror is the only furniture occupying the space, which is just like all the other rooms, but for the burning candle in front of the mirror. The looking glass reflects the light all over the walls and ceiling, making the place appear much brighter than it should be. The part I really don’t like is that the candle hasn’t dripped at all yet, and there aren’t any disturbances in the dust where someone might have stepped. So how and why is there a candle if no one put it there? I really, really don’t like that one bit.