It’s Day 3, and I’m still excited to write!
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Without further ado:
I sat at the workbench in my garage, tinkering with a device. I’d been waiting anxiously for this day to arrive. It had to be today, or the whole plan would fall through.
A cargo door closed on a truck outside.
I jumped up and ran to the front door, knocking over a bowl of plastic fruit along the way. I waited by the door, trying to catch my breath, then I heard the glorious rap of knuckles on wood.
Yes! It’s finally here!
After an excruciatingly long minute, I opened the front door and saw a small package sitting on the porch. I picked it up and checked the label, even though there was no doubt it was mine. There, on the label, was my confirmation—the world balanced on the tip of a sword.
I had the box nearly open by the time I reached the garage.
I reached inside, pulled out the final piece, and held it up in the light to admire the beauty of its craftsmanship.
I pulled out my phone and sent a text message to Doug, “Don’t go with her on that date tonight. The event has been moved up to tonight.”
He replied, “Okay. I’ll be there.”
I set down the phone. The piece gleamed in the light, begging to be used. I gingerly installed it in the device.
Finally, it’s finished!
The sun was setting. I quickly placed it in its container, carefully picked it up, and placed it in the trunk of my car. After getting in the car, I realized that I didn’t have my car key. I checked all my pockets, but couldn’t find it anywhere.
I don’t have time for this! Where could it be? The fruit bowl!
I ran to the kitchen and picked up the green apple from the floor. I unscrewed the bottom and pulled out the spare key.
“You’re late,” Doug whispered as I met him at the center of Times Square.
“Barely,” I mumbled, “Is everything ready? We only have one shot at this.”
“Yes, everything is ready,” he said, as he nodded toward a coffee shop down the street.
A couple was emerging, while a businessman hurried inside, probably to meet a colleague after a late night at the office. Across the street, a group of tourists was taking photos of themselves and all the lights.
“It’s a busy night. I believe we’re going to make quite an impression,” I said, while I unpacked and prepared the device. A few passers-by gave us suspicious glances, unsure of what was about to happen.
“Ready?” Doug shifted his stance, “Now.”
In unison, we drew our bows across the strings of our violins, releasing a gentle breeze of romantic notes. The couple stopped in front of us to enjoy the song of love as it danced through the air. At the man’s signal, we stopped the music.
He knelt down beside her and changed her life forever.