Other stories for this prompt

Deluxe. Platinum. Gold. That is the key to success, she said to the audience, wine glass in hand. Everyone broke our clapping. She smiled, made a short, stunted half-bow and left the stage. She passed through the crowd with elegance and with purpose, deftly sidestepping those stumbling drunkenly about and avoiding any pitfalls into small talk and conversation. They smiled as she passed, vaguely recognizing her, but not exactly sure what her name was. Passing by a waiter, uniform and immaculate amidst it all, she left her wine glass on his tray. It was only a pleasantry, after all. It...

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The best oak hand sawn carved by a master carpenter. Plush deep red velvet that is soft to the touch yet heavy, and sumptious, the heaviest brass polished to a mirror finish. Everything I bought was the best money could buy, my house photographed and featured in all the glossy magazines.

Rachmaninoff and Bach were always my favourite composers so it was fitting they were chosen, expert pianists played to give me the best send off. As I lay in my coffin in a gown made in Paris, my relatives knew I would be happy.

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"This is luxury." he whispered. I shook my head, not being able to process what he was saying properly.
The room was adorned with thrift store goodies, old couches, and smelled-- well, old.
I clutched my Coach bag, gritting my teeth and shook my head once more.
"This is a mistake." I stated, exhaling quickly.
"It is not." he replied, taking my hand.
I squealed at the contact, because-- goodness, this was where he lived, and I don't think this was really what I had in mind when he described his house as 'deluxe'.
"You've got to be more open...

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Deluxe. I ordered a deluxe meal. Where, you might be wondering? Not McDonalds. Not BK. Not Whataburger. Not Chick-fil-a. No, I was trying a new restauranut down on 57th street, you know, in the bad part of town. Normally, I don't venture out that way to often. However, my favorite comic book store recently located to 55th street, just two streets over from this new place. So, after I bouight the newest copies of Batman, X-Men, and Green Martians From Outer Space, I went over to the new restauranut. It was called "Tom's Eatery". "Hmmm....", I thought to myself, "Thsi...

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"The McDonald's Arch Deluxe. Thee layers of disgusting terror."
The ad flashed by on the R31 bus, and I quickly completed it in my mind. Damn those people. As a vegan, I feel these ad execs should not be allowed to penetrate my air space.

Before I was strong-willed, such an attempt used to stand a chance at luring me from my modest, then-vegetarian diet.

Now, it had the chance of an earthworm in a swimming pool.

At loss of time and options, and very hungry for no apparent reason, however, I stepped into a nearby Burger King and ordered...

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Deluxe hotel, the brochure said. Apartment sized-rooms. You get your own little kitchen and living room and bedroom. A slightly smaller, more luxurious, home away from home.

The brochure didn't say anything about being woken up in the middle of the night by panicked pounding on the door.

I swung my feet over the side, and moved over the thick carpet to the door. I rubbed the sleep away from one eye and then put it to the spyhole. The pounding had stopped and I saw her, small and naked and covered in streaking blood. She slid slowly down the...

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Deluxe. Five bedrooms, four baths. Swimming pool.

So are they all. Four solid blocks. Beach all the way to the highway. Green roofs and white polyurethane fences to separate properties.

The mall, when I was young, Had three shops and a bar. When we stopped going, they had a movie theater built.

And there were horses too. Wild horses. The shit you see in movies. Harming one carried a $50,000 fine.

They moved them out to an island off the cape, I've heard. The developers weren't happy when they started getting hit by Excursions.

The mall is gigantic. It has...

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About the prompt

Originally displayed on:
April 13, 2011


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