Welcome to the fourth week of the Spring Writing Challenge!
You all did so well with your stories last week! There were so many interesting and unique ways you interpreted the prompt. It’s now the fourth week, so it’s time to do it again! Will your story have an epic battle between good and evil? A long-lost evil brother? Whatever you decide, we can’t wait to see what you come up with.
So, without further ado, here’s your next prompt!
Week Four Prompt – The Theme Prompt
Write a story that’s about a
Bigfoot Reunion
Wait…what’s a theme prompt?
A theme prompt is a prompt that’s about a particular subject! It doesn’t matter where your story takes place, who’s in it, or what’s said. The only thing that matters is that your story must be about a Bigfoot Reunion.
Before you start writing, we have some important rules for you to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the stories you post to a PG rating. Please avoid real curse words. Violence/fighting should be limited and purposeful. Please do not include any spice.
2. Your story must be 1,000 words or less, and must contain the prompt to be counted for the challenge. You’re not required to post it in order to “win” the challenge, but if you want it to count for your team, your story must be posted by Sunday at 11:59 PM ET, and you must include your team name.
Remember to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page and post your story as an “answer” to this question, not a “comment”. 🙂 You’re all doing such a great job! I’m so proud of all the stories you’ve posted.
Happy Writing!
The Bigfoot Reunion
by April Lee Hammond, Team A
Bardolph hated wearing clothes in the rain. He didn’t much like it any time, but it was worse in the rain. The cloth always captured the water and pulled it into his fur. Without the clothes, he could shake it off. But if he went out without being covered in clothes, someone might see him. He couldn’t have those conspiracy nuts roaming around his place.
He wouldn’t have gone out at all, but the internet was out. No work, no games, no nothing. He’d never seen those guys he talked to online in person, and they had no idea of who he really was, but at least it was someone to talk to. He sighed. What he wouldn’t give for a real, in-person conversation with someone.
Though the chance was small that they’d be out here on such a miserable day, Bardolph covered himself in clothes. He wasn’t wearing the shoes, though. It was tough getting shoes big enough, and he wasn’t about to mess up his good pair of shoes in this mud. In fact, he quite liked feeling the mud between his toes, even if it did mean washing his feet off before going back inside.
By the time he got to the road, he felt like he’d been dunked in the pond. He peeked out from behind a tree. No cars. He slipped out to the mailbox and grabbed his mail. The fur on the back of his hand caught on the edge, adding to his already perfectly miserable day. He tucked the mail inside his shirt and rubbed at the sore spot.
Back at the hut, he removed all the wet cloth, shook himself, and dropped into his porch chair to go through the mail. It was mostly flyers. He went through them slowly, wishing he could go to a store and look at all the stuff they had for sale.
A white card slipped from his stack. He caught it and held it up. In big hairy letters, it said, “Bigfoot Reunion”. Beside it was a picture of a foot that looked very similar to his own. There was an address plus more tiny print at the bottom. He squinted at it but couldn’t read it.
A reunion? He hadn’t heard anything about that. Who would be planning it? It must be one of the cousins. It had been years since he had seen any of them. With a significantly improved mood, he began to make plans.
On the evening of the reunion, Bardolph arrived at the remote cabin to find the parking lot full of cars, which was surprising. Many of his relatives refused to travel by car. He pulled his motorcycle into a small spot along the edge and peeked into the nearest SUV. The driver’s seat was pushed all the way back then leaned back a little for more head room. Fast food wrappers were scattered across the rest of the seats. That sounded like something his cousin, Gary, would do.
He got off his bike, pulled off his helmet, and shook out his mane. A squeal caused him to freeze. Not far away, a human woman stood staring at him. His instinct was to run, but he really didn’t want to leave the motorcycle behind.
“Mr. Ferrigan!” the woman called. “He’s here!”
A trap?
The man who came around the corner didn’t look like a hunter. He was a round fellow wearing a casual suit and didn’t even come up to Bardolph’s shoulder.
“Oh, good,” the man said as he approached. “The agency called and said the other fellow couldn’t make it, but we got cut off before they could say what they were doing about it.” He shook his head. “Cell phone reception out here is terrible.”
Curiosity more than anything else kept Bardolph in his place. Still, he gripped his helmet tight, ready to fight, if necessary. He could almost hear his parents’ lessons on the dangers of being seen by humans running through his head.
Mr. Ferrigan stopped and looked him over. “That is a beautiful costume. Is it real animal fur?”
Bardolph glanced at the woman who also watched admiringly.
“Never mind,” Mr. Ferrigan said. “We’re running late. I should have a t-shirt big enough for you. Come on.”
Glancing around, Bardolph saw no signs of danger. If this was some kind of test by his parents, he’d surely get reprimanded for it later. Still, this was his first chance of seeing a human up close. A bigfoot costume. He could work with that.
They slipped through a kitchen where several people in white were working. Bardolph tensed at the sight of the knives, but none seemed to be coming after him. He hurried after Mr. Ferrigan before any changed their minds.
In a small office, Mr. Ferrigan dug through a box and pulled out a shirt.
“That should do,” he said, and handed it to Bardolph. It was a white shirt with “Bigfoot Shoes” written on it in the same furry font as on the invitation.
“I thought this was a family reunion,” Bardolph said.
“They didn’t tell you anything?”
Bardolph watched him, worried. “Last minute replacement,” he said.
Mr. Ferrigan shook his head, as if in disappointment at the agency’s oversight. “It’s a gathering of customers of Bigfoot Shoes.” He pointed at Bardolph’s feet. “You’re already wearing the shoes, so I assumed you knew.”
Bardolph glanced down at his tennis shoes. “They’re the only ones I could find that are big enough.”
“Exactly.” Mr. Ferrigan smiled. “You’re going to be perfect.”
Bardolph grinned. He was going to a party.
