Scritchy scratchy wax on wall, she thought. No matter. It was the shape she needed right.
*Sniff* a hand ‘cross red nose and puffy eyes. *Stomp stomp stomp* she heard those hobnailed boots but they .stopped. off the other way.
She breathed and scritched and scratched, the purple crayon unwilling to give its wax without a fight.
“There,” she said, and loved the circle she’d formed from the bit of crayon abandoned in the hallway.
“I’m Amelie, and I believe.”
Stuttering hand reached to the middle of the circle. Pushed. And disappeared, where *stomp stomp stomp* can’t find her.
©2022 Chel Owens
For Carrot Ranch’s prompt this week:
March 28, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about disappearance. It can be an event, act, or subtle theme. Who or what disappears? Does it fade or explode? Can it be explained or experienced? Go where the prompt leads!
- Submit by April 2, 2022. If you want to be published in the weekly collection, please use the form. The Collection publishes on the Wednesday following the next Challenge. Rules & Guidelines.
- Carrot Ranch only accepts stories through the form [on the site]. Accepted stories will be published in a weekly collection. Writers retain all copyrights.
- Your blog or social media link will be included in your title when the Collection publishes.
- Please include your byline which is the name or persona you attribute to your writing.
- Please include the hashtag #99Word Stories when sharing either the Challenge or Collection posts in social media.
chelowens.com 
Well now… it begs a look where she went!
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🤔 I don’t think she considered that.
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Looking for a purple crayon.
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Me, too!
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I don’t want those boots coming near me either…
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Better get a crayon.
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🙂
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I want to believe, too!
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❤ Thanks, Charli!
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She and Harald, with his purple crayon, could be the best of friends!
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Exactly! I hope they meet!
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Just follow the moon…
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❤❤
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I hope Amelie will be safe where she has gone. Keep those hobnailed boots away.
‘the purple crayon unwilling to give its wax’ says so much. Like a voice unable to utter through fear. There is poetry in your words.
I think many of us at times wish we could draw a portal and disappear into it, even if not permanently.
Well done, Chelsea.
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Thank you, Norah. I would love to polish this story more.
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It has a lot of potential.
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