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My one prompt

16 Feb

So last week, I came up with this when we were doing prompts for a love scene. The piece of paper I pulled from the hat said “Theme park” and that immediately conjured the image of a regular young couple at a theme park. I thought this image was a bit simple and I sought to undermine any sense of normality in the premise. And I came up with this. I’m still writing more of it. I don’t know where it’s going, but that’s the fun of writing it!


I’m at the Magic Kingdom in Disney World. Crowds bustle as children and parents hurry from attraction to attraction. My wife and kids are waiting on line for a certain ride on the other side of the park so I told them I’d catch up with them later. My excuse? I’m not feeling well. A rush of adrenaline surges through me as I pass the true love of my life in the arms of another man. I’ve felt this way since childhood and I doubt these feelings will ever wither. With no other choice, I get on line so we can have a picture together.

I naturally stand out. Children decked out in Disney merchandise wait in front and behind me. I’m by myself wearing khaki shorts, blue fuck-me crocs, and a plaid short sleeved shirt. As the line moves forward, my anger swells. What does he think he’s doing with his arm wrapped around my love’s shoulder? That shit won’t fly when it’s my turn to have a picture taken.

At long last, I’ve reached the front of the line. An employee gives me a stare and asks me “So you want your picture taken with Tigger and Pooh?” The annoying fuck put an extra emphasis on the word “you” in an attempt to shame me. I’ve spent our whole vacation fantasizing about this moment and I’m not gonna let him take it away from me. I walk up to Tigger and Pooh. I stand in between them and wrap my arm around Pooh’s shoulder. Tigger tries to do the same to me, but I gently push him aside with my hand. He tries again. I push him aside yet again. I think to myself “He’s fucking mine, Tigger.” Tigger finally gives in and moves out of the shot. To claim my victory, I slightly rest my head on Pooh’s shoulder. Oh, boy it’s so soft and heavenly. Just like the Pooh stuffed animal I had as a kid. This moment is perfect. I tap on Pooh’s shoulder and meet his eyes. I slip him a small piece of paper and wink. The paper has my phone number and our hotel room on it. Pooh takes the paper without reading it.

“Ok. The picture’s been taken.” the photographer said this but it didn’t register with me. “Picture’s taken” Again, this fails to register. “PICTURE’S TAKEN!” His yell startles me shitless and I jolt. I lift my head, walk away from Pooh, and mutter “You didn’t have to be so rude about it” as I pass the photographer. People gawk at me in disgust, but I don’t care. It’s time to buy my picture.