Prompt: Finals Week: Freewrite for five minutes. Begin with an adjective. Then, use something from your freewriting at the end of your piece.
Original Airdate: February 2 and 3, 2011
black dark rusted musty moth-eaten hidden attic crawl spaces cobwebs stroking silvery caressing shivers cold dark new moon ancient wedding dresses hidden away in army-issue trunks large enough to fit a man inside comfortably. perhaps there are men hidden away in those trunks beneath the musty wedding dress from four generations of foppish women. How would anyone ever find them? Why would anyone be sneaking about in the attic looking in trunks like coffins expecting corpses? They're too busy with their coffee beans on the first floor to worry about their dead uncle on the top floor. He's been dead forever anyway, why would they care? What could be more important than getting the children to school and a cup of perfectly brewed joe and the wedding that's coming up with its new dresses and trims and ribbons and so many congratulatory gifts that they wouldn't even fit in one of the trunks upstairs. Maybe the bride will want to wear her grandmother's pearls, though. Or maybe she's looking for something old or something borrowed
Wren crouched in the prop room, her breathing heavy. Around her, dresses hung with unnatural, limp stillness and trunks like coffins loomed out of the walls.