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!
Jessica Roan (Team 1)
“Fasten your seatbelts low and tight around your waist,” the stewardess on the screen instructed.
Trent watched in disbelief.
He was finally on his way. He imagined his seven-year-old self watching Expedition Unknown and other documentaries, itching to see some proof of his favorite monster, Big Foot (any version would work).
He had it all-stickers, hats, shirts depicting various versions of him. And he was finally going.
The Ultimate Yeti Tour, as they called it, was a 10 day Nepalese expedition into “Yeti Territory”.
They would hear from villagers who had “seen him”, explore sites he was observed at, and listen to age-old Yeti tales.
Practical? Not really. There were better ways to spend $6.000, but he didn’t care. He was 6 weeks away from starting hisnew job at Microsoft. He just wanted to go on this one adventure before adulthood hit.
“It’s nerdy,” his brother said.
But he didn’t care. Whether it was bucket hats or MineCraft, he and his friends had always been on the outskirts of “cool”.
“Imagine how cool I will be when I take a selfie with him,” he told his mom.
He stared out the window at the vast ocean. He felt sorry for the young girl next to him. He would have wanted the window seat at that age, but his parents taught him to choose a window seat, and he was not going to break family tradition now.
Seven hours later, he had only dozed for an hour. Despite trying many natural remedies for sleep over the years, he still couldn’t sleep unless he was in a bed. As the sun came up, his excitement grew. He knew that when he was finally hiking in the Himalayas, the money, the sleepless night, and the extensive planning would be worth it.
As he exited the terminal, he was shocked at how modern the airport seemed. The people, however, were different from anyone he had seen. Their dark features contrasted with bright, woven clothing. It was June, but they all looked like they were expecting winter weather. He was intrigued as his eyes met some of theirs, but the language they spoke had nothing he could recognize from his knowledge of English or Spanish, so they would remain a mystery, until he could find the interpreter that was to accompany him on his journey.
“Hey, man,” he heard behind him.
It was Will, a fellow Big Foot worshipper he had met in L.A.
“Hey. How was your flight?” he answered.
“Great! I slept.”
Trent just smiled, hoping he slept well when they got to their hotel.
Below the sign that he assumed said “Welcome to Kathmandu” was a Nepalese man holding a cardboard sign that said “Ultimate Yeti Tour” in sloppy marker.
He watched as several others walked towards their guide. His nametag said“Ram”.
“Welcome to Nepal,” he said with a heavy accent.
“Thank you,” several travelers replied.
After a bumpy bus ride and a meal of momos (dumplings) and Thupka (noodle soup), they went to their hotel rooms. The closet-sized room had a concrete floor, a twin bed, a pitcher of hot water, and a bowl for washing. He laid down and felt himself drifting off for the first time in days.
For the next days, he and his fellow Yeti fans ate Sel Roti (donuts), drank smokey, strong coffee, endured bumpy roads, and hiked countless miles through steep, unkempt trails. They listened to Nepali shamans tell of Yeti encounters dating from 5 to 500 years ago. They even attended a Yeti festival held along with a tribute marathon in Manang. The participants danced and sang around an impressive wooden Yeti statue that must have taken years to create.
On the flight home, Trent was satisfied. Practical? Not exactly, but he felt happy knowing he had fulfilled a lifelong dream. He really didn’t see actual evidence of the real Yeti. The footprint could have been his, he guessed, but it also could have belonged to a bear or something similar.
When he landed, he saw his brother, Brad. He had actually slept a little on the way home and felt somewhat rested.
“Well, how was it? Did you see the Yeti?” his brother inquired, grinning.
“I saw him with my own eyes,” he replied.
“We had better get going,” Brad said.
As they waited for Trent’s luggage, they discussed the backpacking trip they had planned in the few days before Trent moved to the Bay Area for his new job.
“I have our packs all ready. I even made spaghetti,” Brad told him.
24 hours later, they were on the trail. Their dad, uncle, and granddad had done this trail when they were small. So after hearing about the Cooke City to East Rosebud trail for years, they were finally going to do it themselves.
As they set up camp after their first 13 miles, they were exhausted. Brad heated up his homemade spaghetti while Trent went to take a leak a few feet away.
“Brad,” he called.
“What? This smells so good,” he said.
“I think you should come here,” he said quietly. “And be quiet.”
Brad checked the spaghetti, and came over.
“What?” he said annoyed. And then he saw it, a faint light in the ravine highlighted their shadows-not one Big Foot looking creature, but 30 of various shapes and sizes. They were feasting on what looked like a moose and milling around, as people would at a reunion. They even saw one adult hand a drumstick to a child-sized creature.
Trent couldn’t believe it. After going to such efforts to get as close as he could to his favorite legend, he encountered him here, two hours from where he grew up.
“Is your phone charged? Brad asked?”
“It’s okay,” Trent said. Just witnessing the phenomena was enough. Plus, even if he took a video, it wouldn’t prove anything.
They got their bowls of spaghetti and spent the evening watching this unbelievable scene in silence.
