The Flint Hills Writing Project (@FHWP) at Emporia State University (Go Hornets! #StingersUp) started a Writing Into the Day/Writing Out of the Day writing prompt series during this period of social distancing. This is a great idea from a great group of writers and writing enthusiasts. I’m going to try and keep up as I can and post my efforts.
Writing Out of the Day – 4/03/20 prompt is to write a story about a person named Purple.
The One Roll
These were desperate times and Purple was most desperate. He tore through each shelf and cabinet of his small home searching. Charmin was gone. That was a fact. The clouds thickened and the sky darkened. The birds did not sing. The crickets failed to chirp.
Purple collapse on his bed and pulled the blankets over his head. The world remained cold. The comforter gave no comfort. Despair pinned him down.
The quiet fractured like the ice sliding from the roof with a pounding at the door. Purple jumped up, wrapped the blanket around his head and peered out the window. He could not believe his eyes. The legendary Gray Wizard stood on his stoop rapping on the heavy oak door with his staff.
Purple ran to the door. Pleasant memories of his youth flooded his mind. The Gray fighting the Invasion of the Midsummer Mice. The Gray preparing a potion to save the town from the Terror of the Termites. The Gray and the Drain Clog Incident in the Year of the Shedding Dog. Oh, how the entire valley celebrated after each of Gray’s victories.
Now he was here. Trouble was afoot, Purple thought as he reached for the doorknob, and who better than the Gray to solve it. Before Purple could even completely turn the handle, the door flung open and a grey streak flew across the threshold.
“Where is it?” shouted the breathless visitor.
Purple stepped from behind the door. “Welcome, Sir Gray. Welcome to my—.”
The wizard grabbed Purple. The long fingers gripped his shoulders like a vice. “You silly creature,” Gray said. His eyes were sharp and worried. “Where is Red’s box?”
Purple stuttered, “You mean Uncle Red?”
The wizard shook him. “Of course I mean him. Where is the box he gave you when he went away?”
Purple tried to think. Ah yes, he remembered. “Follow me.”
Purple went to the very back of the most remote closet in the house. Under a pile of assorted household items, he pulled an ancient wooden box. Purple barely set it on the floor before The Gray jerked it from his hands, brushed the dust off with the sleeve of his robe, and flung open the lid. Purple stepped back and watched the wild-eyed wizard search the box until he found what he searched for. Purple gasped when Gray pulled the object from the box. If only he knew that was in his possession all this time, all his current problems would have been, at least temporarily, solved.
“Aha! It’s here!” exclaimed the wizard. “Purple, quickly find a candle and light it.”
Purple was confused but did what he was asked to do. His heart raced in his chest. He could barely light the candle his hand was shaking so. He shielded the tender flame with his free hand as he walked slowly back to the wizard. The Gray now wore a strange pair of tinted eyeglasses. Odd symbols were forged into the frames that Purple did not recognize.
“Here’s the candle, sir.”
“Hold it steady and let me look.”
The wizard peered through the object’s center as he held the tube up to the flickering light. He sighed deeply and leaned back against the wall. “It is as I feared.” He handed the glasses and the full roll of toilet paper to Purple and rubbed his temples as if his head would explode.
Purple placed the candle on the table, hooked the glasses over his large ears, and looked inside the cardboard tube. In the candlelight, lines of ancient script appeared on the inside of the tube. Purple read them slowly and cautiously,
One roll to rule them all,
one roll if we find them,
One roll to stack them all
and in the restroom deny them.
Purple blew out the candle and set the roll on the table. He slowly back away and stood next to the wizard against the wall.
“Is that the…” muttered Purple.
“Yes,” the wizard answered. “The One Roll.”
“The Roll To End All Rolls?”
“The very one.”
Now everything made sense to Purple. “So that’s why there’s no more toilet paper around.”
A shadow fell across The Gray’s face. “No more Charmin while the One Roll exists.”
“What do we do?”
“There’s only one way. The One Roll must be destroyed.”
“You can do that, right?”
The wizard sadly shook his head. “No wizard has that kind of power.”
Purple had read enough books to know what had to be. “The One Roll can only be destroyed by the one who owns it.”
The wizard nodded.
“Me.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And how is it done?”
The wizard removed his hat, walked over to the kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. He sat down at the table and took a long drink. “The One Roll must be flushed in the whirlpool of Mount Loo.”
The words hit Purple like a knife to the chest. Mount Loo. The most feared and uninhabitable place in the world. A place that strikes fear in all manner of man and beast. But Purple knew what needed to be done. He knew he was the only one to do it. He stared at the roll sitting innocently on the table. He felt a strange rumbling in his gut. There was only one thing to do.
“I’ll do it,” he said confidently.
The wizard let out a worried sigh.
“But first, I ask one thing.”
The Gray shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, Purple. I cannot help you on your journey. There are times where I may be able to assist but this quest is yours and yours alone.”
Purple stood up, grabbed the One Roll, and headed toward the bathroom. “Oh, I understand that. I just need to use some of The One Roll before we get started.”
And thus, Purple’s adventure began where all good adventures should begin, with a final trip to the bathroom before departure.
