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Subway Base

Writing Rambles #12

For this prompt, I didn’t write the first thing that came to my mind or the second for that matter. I didn’t want to write the obvious. I just wasn’t in the mood. First, I thought wedding proposal speech… Meh. Then I thought school speech of some sort which also felt kind of lame. Finally, I thought secret confession/apology speech… Now that could be interesting.

Also the setting. I did not build this setting for the prompt; I made the prompt fit into this setting. Which is why I named this snippet after the setting and not after anything that’s happening in it. For some reason I could just see this sketchy little room so vividly at the time, and sometimes you gotta write what’s in your head even if it doesn’t have a place yet.

As always, if you want to join the fun, write your own story off of the promt before you read mine and post it in the fireside room! I’d love to read it!

Prompt: He was practicing his speech in the mirror…

Subway Base written July 19, 2019

He was practicing his speech in the mirror, scrutinizing his every feature, unhappy, to say the least, with what he saw. At times his mouth opened much too wide in exaggerated sincerity, while other times he barely mumbled out the words, totally unsure of how he was going to say any of this.

Would they believe him?

The tight room shook with tremors that rattled his toothbrush in it’s cup as the subway past overhead. A fine dusting of sheet rock departed from the ceiling and the already dingy lights of the secret base, flickered and then went out, leaving him in the dark with his thoughts.

When the light at last bloomed back to life, as he knew it would, Marcus stared into the depth of his own hazel eyes. Deep down he knew it didn’t matter whether or not they believed him; he owed it to them to tell the truth. They meant too much to him now to do anything but confess.

Scotty would believe him, he’d probably even understand. He saw his reflection smirk in spite of the heavy circumstances, but it fell faster than it came. Laina would be the hardest to convince and at best, she’d be crushed.

“Aghhh!” There was nothing for it.

Marcus shoved the faucet handle up and, caked with rust and grime, it stuck a little. Brown water sputtered out in a wayward spray, and he cupped it in his hands to wash the anxious look from his face. Grabbing a stained towel from the wall hanger, he dried his face and smoothed his raven hair, dusting the fallen sheet rock from his head and shoulders.

Fixing himself with one last determination-darkened look, he turned around, kicking a broken and loose tile. It clattered across the floor and the unreliable overhead light went out once again before he could flick the switch.

Thanks for reading!

Your Captain,



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