Day 2: Write 250 words inspired by the color of the walls of the room that you’re in.
It was in that box Danny first heard the words of the voice she’d later come to call “Itsy.” Itsy, because the prompts and suggestions were small, only noticeable if she were looking to find them, and the voice had a spindly quality, like a spider. Friendly, composed, welcoming like a nursery rhyme, but a spider all the same. Not many stories cast spiders in a very good light. Charlotte’s Web did, but then that maternal arachnid didn’t even make it to the end, so she doesn’t count.
The box was just that, a box. Danny could not leave the box, because The Tall Man told her she must stay until he got back. The box had walls like a banana’s dream of maturity, a perfectly ripened, earthy color. A stiff wind could compromise the box’s durability, but as long as Danny stayed inside like The Tall Man said, it wouldn’t blow away. It was her responsibility to keep the box safe. Itsy thought so, too.
Itsy thought The Tall Man was a liar. Itsy was young, but she seemed smart enough. Danny believed Itsy when she said The Tall Man would not be coming back. This was Danny’s box now, she didn’t need to share. It was only big enough for her and Itsy, anyways.
That’s it. Screw The Tall Man. Danny figured he’d be gone a while, but hours. He could find his own box.
He’d better hurry, too, Danny snickered to herself. A grey storm was stirring over the city pillars, high-fiving the sky. He’d want a box before it started to rain. Rain? Danny grimaced. She’d have to make sure Itsy didn’t get washed away.
If that happened, then she’d only have the box left for company.
Boxes weren’t very talkative.