2016 – Day 51

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: begins with this sentence: He found an umbrella in his bed

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He found an umbrella in his bed. Not a compact, stash-away umbrella that could have fallen out of his backpack or suitcase and then lay hidden beneath the blanket for a few days. It was long and black with a crook handle, the type of old English umbrella one could use as a cane to accompany a suit and overcoat. Theodore surveyed the rest of his room, but did not see anything else amiss. The surface of the bureau contained only his tie clips and watch, and the bookcase presented an orderly layout (by genre, then author). Neither showed a hint of dust. or disturbance.

Theodore assessed his feelings and determined that he was more curious than frightened about the appearance of the black umbrella, though he felt it would be wise to remain cautious. He checked inside each drawer of the bureau then the drawers in the kitchen and the desk in the living room, but he could find nothing out of place. If someone had broken in, they had managed to take nothing, lose their umbrella, and lock all doors and windows on their way out. Quite illogical, Theodore thought. In fact, he could think of no possible explanation for it, and there didn't seem to be any appropriate response other than to put the umbrella in the umbrella stand and go on with his day.

The next morning it rained. On his way out the door, Theodore grabbed his briefcase and green folding umbrella. Stepping outside, he pressed the button to automatically open the umbrella, but as it began opening, a powerful gust of wind caught the umbrella canopy and pushed it open faster and further until it was inverted and its ribs were twisted and unhooked from where they were supposed to be. Theodore held tightly as the wind tried to wrench the umbrella from his hands. He stepped back inside the house, pulling the umbrella in with him, before slamming the door shut.

Back in the entryway, he dropped the broken umbrella back into the umbrella stand so that it could drip dry then took a moment to catch his breath. His eyes fell upon the long, black umbrella that he had discovered the night before. He was certain it was not his umbrella and that the owner would be revealed in a perfectly logical explanation, but, until that time, it would be appropriate for him to use the umbrella. If this one broke, too, he would simply replace it. He picked up the umbrella and went back outside.

"Here goes nothing," he said into the wind and pushed the umbrella open. As it clicked into place, another gust of wind enveloped him. He kept both hands on the handle and for a moment felt as if he would fly away like Mary Poppins. But the umbrella held firm and soon he was able to push through the wind and make his way to the train to get to work.

Later that evening, after Theodore had eaten his usual dinner of curry, potatoes, and carrots and cleaned up the dishes, he retired to his bedroom to read. He passed his hand along the books on his shelf until he found the one that appealed for that night and took it from the shelf. He sat upon the bed, slid off his slippers, and turned so that he could sit leaning against the backboard. As he swung his legs swung across the blanket, he felt a lump under the covers just below his knees. Dropping the book, he hopped off the bed and pulled back the blanket. There, at the center of the bed, lay a pair of black gloves.