The second set of short stories based on prompts such as first sentence starters and 3 random words. Some of these are quite old...can you spot the newer from the older?
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She had found something that would mean she'd never be poor again - but there was a catch. There was always a catch. Nothing was free. Nothing.
She held the small box within her hands. It was fairly unassuming. About the size of a novel in length, width and depth. It was tin, she believed. It didn't feel fragile, but not altogether durable either.
The decorative touches were nothing spectacular. The sides all had a swirl design that seemed to shimmer with the colors of a rainbow like a CD. The bottom was plain and flat. The lid, well, it didn't really match the rest of the box, like it had been scavenged from elsewhere. It had a pattern etched into the metal, but the origins were unknown to her. And... It seemed to change every so often. As a matter of fact, every time she looked at it, it was different.
The man who had given it to her said this simple little box held great power, and that it was a gift to her, for her kindness. He died hours later. They had met in a soup kitchen. She gave him a pair of her socks, one of her scarves and most of the bread that had been on her plate that afternoon.
Of course, these soup kitchens never had enough to go around. They were all turned out, back into the blistering cold. All this man's things were so threadbare, she felt like he could use some of the things she had collected.
And he gifted her with a box. A magic box, or so he said.
She was afraid of it, feeling it in her cold hands.
He said for her generosity, she'd never have to be poor again. No more life on the streets, no more soup kitchens.
All she had to do was make a wish on the box.
But there was a catch.
She sat in thought for a long time under the bridge, holding the box.
Finally, when the cold seeped into her bones and the hunger gnawed at her belly and she could take no more... she gave in.
She made a wish.
Ten thousand dollars.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and exhaling. Her eyes opened and focused on the box. She gave it a little shake.
It rattled.
Giving a blink of her eyes, she opened it slowly.
A gasp left her. Money. So much money. And it didn't look 'new' and suspicious.
She looked around herself, closing the lid and tucking to herself.
Across the city an unexplained epidemic seemed to plague the rich. Some choked on their meals, some encountered horribly fatal accidents, some were murdered, and some inexplicably jumped from rooftops to their deaths. Entire families.
