I’ve been super lame about making sure I do Writer Wednesdays. I told myself I need to make it more of a priority. After all, that’s how you get better, right? Practice, practice, practice and all that?
Here’s today’s prompt:
“I’m tired of these walls,” Dodger said, looking about him.
“Then go for a swim,” Betsey replied, no looking up from her salad.
“The pool isn’t clean,” whined Dodger, “and the boy won’t be here til the morning to clean it.”
“Go for a walk,” suggested Betsey, pieces of Romaine falling out of her mouth.
“A walk?” Dodger asked, incredulous. “A walk? You suggest a walk when you know I can’t…” His voice trailed off. He looked through his window up into the night sky.
“A walk,” he repeated softly. He turned to his wife, excitement in his eyes. “Yes! Yes! Let’s go for a walk!”
“So start walking,” Betsey said, sighing. “Just don’t bump into me.”
“Not in here,” Dodger said. “Out there.” He motioned his over-sized head to the window.
Betsey’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean, Dodge?”
“I’m saying, let’s both go for a walk…out there.”
Betsey shook her head violently. “No, no, no, no!”
“Come on, Betsey!” Dodger pleaded. “What’s the worse that could happen?”
“You know what could happen!” Betsey screeched. “You know how they are. Don’t you remember where we came from? I like it here. I don’t want to go out there.”
“Please, darling,” Dodger cooed into his wife’s ear. “Think about all the great food we always smell and never get to eat. We could find some out there.”
The scowl that had appeared across Betsey’s mouth started to soften. “Food, you say?”
“Yes, my love!” Dodger exclaimed. “Food of all sorts! And I’ll get it all for you! You can try it all, sweetheart!”
Betsey smiled. “But how will we get out?”
“Leave it to me,” Dodger said.
Dodger moved back as far as he could and ran head first into the steel door at the opposite end of the room. After about five tries, it burst open. Which was good; Dodger’s head was starting to hurt and he was ready to forget the entire venture. After escaping their small apartment, it was only a matter of squeezing through the tiny hallway (which was rather difficult, as Dodger and Betsey were rather ample) and busting through the front gate.
They were able to do both rather quickly, although Betsey thought it best to knock down the gate. She wanted to save Dodger’s head from further damage. He was the brains of this operation after all.
After they exited, they starting walking down a long street. There wasn’t much around them. After several minutes, Betsey suggested they turn around and go back.
“No, not yet,” Dodger begged. “Please. Just a little further. I think I see light ahead.”
After a few moments, the couple found themselves at the top of a small hill. When they looked down, Dodger shouted in delight.
“Look! Down there!”
Betsey followed his eyes and saw a parking lot full of different trucks. Each one of the trucks had pictures of food on them; food she had definitely seen before. There was also an oval-shaped area with tall walls and bright lights. There were sounds of cheering and whistles coming from it.
“Are you sure?” Betsey asked. “What if we’re not welcome?”
Dodger kissed his mate. “Just be yourself. Everyone will love you.”
The couple walked down the hill and entered through some gates. They made their way to the trucks with the pictures of food and went to the window.
“Just a sec,” called a man from inside the truck over his shoulder.
The couple waited patiently.
“Alright, what’ll you have?” the man asked, finally looking at Dodger and Betsey.
Before either one could open their mouths, the man screamed.
Another man rushed to his side, “What’s wrong boss?”
The first man pointed to the window. The second man saw the couple and looked like he might faint.
“Call the cops!” the first man yelled. “Tell them there are two hippos at the Saint James’ homecoming game!”