Blurring the Lines

"Oh, I can so totally win this one!"

I ducked my head, realizing I had spoken aloud in an office full of cubicles. The hum of voices continued with no break nor rise in volume. My neighbors in their cubes seemed oblivious. I paused another moment. Nothing happened- none of my coworkers had heard.

I looked back to the Writer's Cramp Forum post on Writing.com. They wanted a submission of a short story before noon tomorrow inspired by the given prompt. My mind raced. This could be my big break!

My life to this point had been rather disappointing. Working as I did in the belly of the corporate beast, my situation had become desperate. No longer could I take the life of a nine-to-five drone. I sensed my chance for glory as I read the Writer's Cramp Prompt again and again. What would happen if I bribed one of the judges? With what would I even bribe them?

I read the contest rules, hoping to find the names of the judges. No mention there. Nameless judges wordlessly evaluating my work. Their anonymity was my curse. I went back to the forum, reading the prompt again. With what to bribe people I didn't even know?

The poster's name grabbed me, bold letters standing starkly against the beige page. Could this be one of the judges? Eeyore: Do you have wishes?

Why yes, Eeyore, yes I do have wishes.

Quickly I examined Eeyore's profile and found a rainbow of quotations. Oh so many quotations! And from one source, "If you see somebody running down the street naked every single day, you stop looking up." Stevie Nicks.

My key to victory! I hadn't enough money to grease even a mouse's palm, but maybe I could lure the decision my way with an item, irresistable to the vulnerable heart of this Eeyore. Stevie Nicks's autograph!

But where to acquire such a thing? I quickly went to Ebay, where one can buy anything, from organs to lordships of Scottish dales. My victory was assured when I saw Stevie Nicks autographs going for as little as two dollars. Fame, it seems, is not on her side.

Then my face fell, none of the bids ended for several hours. But even if I could buy one, there was no way I could get it before the contest ended. Somehow I didn't think Eeyore would fall for the old, "Your Stevie Nicks autograph is in the mail," trick.

Squaring my shoulders, I googled as I've never googled before. Web pages flickered before me as I hunted for something, anything, that I could use to persuade Eeyore to convince the judges of my worthiness. Useless facts piled up around me, the phone went unanswered. A half hour later I had what I needed. Stevie Nicks, it seemed, lived in Phoenix, Arizona. I grabbed my cell phone and went to the break-room. I had a call to make.

My friend in Phoenix agreed readily. A little too readily, I think now. But with Stevie Nicks being held captive in my friend's basement, I could now say with perfect authority, "If I win this contest, Stevie Nicks will give you a private concert. She may look a little more bedraggled than usual, but a real fan wouldn't care!"

I'll go to jail, certainly, as will my friend. And my life will definitely be changed drastically, though maybe not in the glamorous manner I had hoped. But that 1000 Gift Point prize will be mine, as will the honorific title of Writer's Cramp winner. I can so totally win this one!






Word count- 604. Wait, those words would make it 606. Whoa, this is getting out of control. With the additional words posting the word count and this sentence the word count stands at- 635.