I wrote a short story for my writing class recently. Our prompt was to write a story about any object on our desk. I wrote a realistic fiction story about my vanilla berry lotion.
I open the lotion jar and sniff its contents. The smell floods my body, sending warm and happy tingles all the way down. I close the lid, but not before taking one last longing smell. I follow Mom throughout the beauty shop, my mind still on that sweet lotion. All I know is that I must have it before it runs out, because surely a lotion with such a smell would run out soon. “Tara!”my mom snaps. I jolt to attention, not sure if she had been calling my name before. “Well?” she asks. I guiltily shrug, not able to picture what she might have been talking about. Mom sighs, exasperated and narrows her eyes at me. “I said,” she repeats,” that I am going to buy something here. I also asked you if you wanted to get anything.” I leap up, my eyes shining bright. I could get anything I wanted! I race to the front of the store, pick up the lotion and race back. My mom laughs at how quickly I’ve chosen. We pay and go home.
To this day, I still love the scent of that lotion and keep it on my desk as a reminder of that happy, lucky day.