The Trifecta Challenge is to write anything, in whichever form, that is between 33 and 333 words based upon a word and definition given. This week’s word is “wild.” My personal challenge is to weave the entries into an actual story. Word count verified by Written? Kitten!
“Fired? Why did you get fired?”
“Why did you bring back a car seat from Boston?”
“I think my question takes precedence,” Dean said. “I mean, holy shit. You’ve been working there for three years now. They gave you some sort of award. Bonuses!”
“You know, it’s still not clear whether I was fired or whether I quit,” Sahara replied. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, as long as I can get unemployment for a while. Can you get unemployment if you quit by punching your boss in the face?”
“No, you can’t! Especially not you. You know we’re supposed to—”
“I’m sure there’s some sort of provision for it,” she continued, not fully listening to him. “I’ll have to look up the laws on Monday. I mean, it can’t hurt to apply. And it’s not like I can’t find another call center job.” She looked back up at Dean, who towered over her at 6 feet. “Now what’s up with that car seat?”
“Lisa’s having a baby,” he said with a shrug. Sahara gave him a look of concern, then examined the seat carefully from top to bottom. “What? I thought she might want a car seat. This one’s perfectly good.” She gave him another look, this time one of pity. “What?”
“Where did you get this thing?” She poked a finger into the material and wiggled it. “It has a hole in the seat.” Sahara sighed. “Lisa is only four months pregnant. I would hope that we could get her a brand new car seat by then.” She opened the car door so he could put in his luggage. “One without holes and cat hair all over it.”
“We might not even be here by the time she pops, you know.”
“I know, but—”
Neither of them noticed the homeless man shuffling over to them with the cup, his eyes wild with glee at the idea of two possible sources of donations. Young people were always good for a buck or two.