In an effort to be more creative, I’m pulling out my Rory’s Storycubes. No guarantees on story quality, but I’m going to roll a few cubes and see what happens in my brain for idea sparks as I roll each one. Here goes…
The padlock was old and rusted; the key missing. Amber Ross stood and stared at the beat-up steamer trunk, oblivious to the jostling crowd and chatter of serious antique hunters around her. She pinched and pulled on her lip with her fingers, thinking. She looked around for the seller. He was busy with an elderly woman bartering over the price of a rickety three legged table. Amber stared at the trunk again. What were the chances?
Gordy Ross finished explaining tattoo maintenance to his new customer who now sported a lightning bolt above one eye. The girl settled her bill and left the shop with a smile. He was mildly baffled why someone would set out to permanently mark herself to look like Harry Potter. Fandom got crazy, he supposed, but money was money.
Gordy’s mobile rang out the theme to Jurassic Park on melodica. He pulled it from his hip pocket and answered. “What up, twin?”
“Remember that story Granna Barker used to tell us? About her childhood? That boat trip from England?”
“Not this again” Gordy sighed. He sagged against the counter and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He could hear the din of the flea market in the background and knew what she was going to say next. She’d found another trunk.
When they were children, they’d often been told the story by their great-grandmother. At a young age she’d been orphaned in London and sent abroad to live with whatever new family would take her. She was not the only child deported on that trip and belongings were mixed up and everything she had ever owned was lost in the shuffle and so on.
They were forty-four and Amber had been working the mystery for more than twenty years with little success. Amber had made it her life’s mission to somehow track down this missing trunk and contents. He adored his sister and understood the importance of family but Gordy never understood why the search possessed her so much. She was obsessed with their genealogy to the point of mania.
“You do realize I’d have better luck finding a dwarf mining gold; than you’ll ever have finding that damned trunk.”
“I’m buying it anyway. Come over after work and watch me open it.” She ended the call. He swore.