I have a fascination with old traveling trunks. When I see them in antique stores, I want to buy them and store my papers, clothes and dreams. My grandparents used to call them valises. There is something about having baggage and organizing it for the new year which appeals to me.
Robin
She wanted to borrow my trunk. That led to a conversation and a job offer in China. Do I want to go to China? All expenses paid? Of course! All because of a trunk sitting unused in my shed.
I have a big trunk in which I like to fill it full of wonderful memories of things I have experienced. Like childhood memories of sledding and ice skating and skiing and hot cocoa. Great memories of school and higher eduation and traveling abroad. Moving to arizona and teaching and christian education. Marrying and having a family and educating and raising my children.
joanne barry
Once upon a time… there was an island of words. After a huge tsunami swept the island, there was only one word remain, submerged.
regie
There is junk in my trunk and it’s getting deflowered.
See, you thought I was going to say debunked, didn’t you?
Well that just goes to show what a simple minded person you are. Shame on you!
Go back to Kansas, whitey!
I forget why I came here…
Uh, look. Cake!
bohmag
I have a trunk! It is huge. I feill it with special things that remind me of my youth. Sometimes it is just full of clothes.The trunk is from my parents and has been painted a few times. I love the color of it now.
The trunk was filled with all sorts of memoirs. Those about the early childhood, when he first began writing them, to those about his most recent years and how he has changed over the past 20 years. He smiled to himself, brushing off the huge layer of grime.
“I never changed, did I?”
extremexunyi
When I saw the size of the car trunk, I was taken aback, after learning that It would be impossible to get all of my luggage pack into it.
victor walkes
In my driveway there rests a car. On my car there is a trunk. In my trunk there lies a suitcase. A suitcase full of my only belongings, the very belongings I plan to take with me on my trip across America. A trip I hope will yield more than experiences, photos, and new friends, but true love as well. I start my journey today.
Raahs
An elephant bends his long, curled, trunk to the wat at the riverside. Around are scattered leafless trees, isolated on the plains. Antelopes graze at the dry, brown, grass.
In a cloud of dust sat the trunk. The very trunk that had yesterday disappeared. Where had it been? Was it a travelling trunk? Were we talking magic travel? Who will open it?
Robin Dalton
Like a slap to the face, the jolt of seeing him made her face flush red. No arms, no legs, just a rectangular slab of body that he waddled with like a seal along the side of the pool before tipping himself in.
jayar
One trunk. One whole lifetime, twenty-five years of possessions and memories, six square feet of space — the numbers didn’t add up.
The trunk of the car was small, confining. She felt like she was going to suffocate if she was forced to stay inside it much longer. Where could they be taking her? Why did they even want thing to do with her in the first place? It was insane. She hated this feeling of helplessness that they were instilling in her. Tied up, gagged and tossed into the trunk of a car like she was nothing but some extra luggage.
Erin
A trunk can fit a great many things, from a suitcase to a dead body. For that matter, a dead body can fit inside a suitcase, if it is appropriately segmented into pieces. That suitcase can then fit in the trunk of a car, and the car can be driven off a cliff into the mountains. Or better yet, drowned in a river.
travellati
BYłem pijany zeszłego tygodnia. Poszedłem spać i obudziłem się o 3:33. Pamiętam tylko to. Zmieniłem pozycję na bardziej wygodną. Koniec.
Filip
it opens and closes, always seems to offer more! the impulse is the trigger which keeps you await!
timeout
Grundo the elephant packed his trunk and loaded it into his Corolla. He had two weeks before Winter Rehearsals for Ringling Bros’ next show and he was going to make the most of his vacation. Tearing down route one toward Key West, he stopped by a roadside shop on Key Largo and bought a peanut butter sandwich. “This crap is Jif!” he proclaimed angrily, “I’m a Skippy man,” as he toppled the display of toothpaste and condoms.
When he got to Key West a couple hours later, he parked on Duval Street with one wheel on the curb. “Seven tequila shots and make it snappy!” he told the man behind the bar at Margaritaville. Twelve minutes later, he stumbled onto the sidewalk and puked on a hippie before passing out in front of a pedicab.
Closed, always holding in what was trying to escape. While we never knew what was truly contained, we had our hopes, our mad ideas of what could be in store. But as we wished and dreamed, reality had a way of slowly creeping outside the trunk…
I paced back and forth. The walls were too narrow and the hall too short. I hadn’t seen a way out of this one. Stuck in this trunk of a dilemma. Someone had strapped the leather flaps closed and sealed them with their brass belt buckles.
Car. Elephant. Tree.
Two kids lock themselves away for one helluva prank.
One mamma showers herself and her baby at the mouth of a river.
I lay on my back and look up at the foliage, the occasional drip breaking through the leaves and spotting my clothes.
I wasn’t sure if I should leave the trunk or take it. It was so pretty, old and smelled like leather… But it had come with the house. So much mystery surrounded the trunk. Even the owners before didn’t know where it came from. It had just… always been there.
the trunk of the car was barking at me. I could hear a faint roar along with it. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay around or needed to. But my first instinct was to step toward it.
ocadd
I wasn’t quite sure what to think when I received the footlocker from the postman. After all, who ever received such large packages anymore? There was even talk about the USPS being discontinued altogether, though I suppose UPS and FedEx might have survived the culling if it came right down to it. Regardless, a trunk is not what one expects to see pop up on their doorstep one day, particularly when one hasn’t been expecting said footlocker in the first place!
Abby
In the trunk of the car, he desperately fought to escape. He kicked out the tail light so he could see where he was being taken. He could see behind him his wife driving to his rescue, but in a blink of an eye a gun shot was fired and the car that his wife was driving swerved off the road and she and he were gone forever.
Going back to school again. Me an Jen trying to fit everything in the trunk of her car. I don’t know how we always manage this. Or the six hour drive that follows.
Janelle
Her screams were muffled by the duct tape over her mouth. The man had seemed so innocent earlier, reading his book and drinking his coffee. She had been so eager to meet him and so happy to see his face. Her tears wouldn’t stop and, try as she might, she struggled to fight her way out of his trunk.
Elephants have extremely large trunks. I also wish I lived in an old home with a unique trunk in the attic. I want to find beautiful antique trinkets.
Holly
The giant creature slowly lumbers toward me, and I am stuck, still, to stunned to move. I feel the grey limb closing around my neck, and the tension increasing, this is it, this is how its going to be.
The trunk was old, older even than the old woman who it belonged to.
She had followed the trunk’s singing, a harmony unlike any other she had heard before. The song had beckoned her, teasing her with the promise of adventure, coaxing her with the hope of something new in her life.
It led her to a small door, hidden behind old dresses wrapped in plastic and smelling of her grandmother, it had been waiting for someone to find her, waiting for excitement.
She slammed the top of the trunk shut, worn leather barely visible underneath the plethora of vibrant stickers.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” Rina said, wringing her hands as she leaned against the light blue doorframe.
“Shut it, ma,” snapped Halina back, latching the trunk with a satisfying click. Halina dragged the overstuffed trunk through the hallway, her mother cringing as the metal-tipped corners scraped against the wooden floors. The taxi was waiting for her downstairs, bright yellow against the muted orange and gray of the autumn. Her long since outgrown tee-shirt strained against her breasts as Halina pulled the luggage down the apartment steps; a loud bang rang throughout the building as each new step was hit.
Rina watched from the window in the apartment, forehead pressed against the glass. Her daughter emerged into the bright afternoon sun, her eyes invisible behind the reflection of her glasses and hair pulled every direction by the wind. Her course lead only towards the taxi, which quickly swallowed Halina and her things, as Rina’s breath fogged against the windowpane.
It was beaten up, badly. It’s color had faded to reveal a tired brown. A worn out trunk, used endlessly by her previous owner.
The girl loved in nonetheless and proudly carried with her around the station, which was bustling with excitement. There was smoke and steam and the sound of boots against brick and tiled floors, a sound she would never hate or dislike or get sick of.
There was lint in the spaces, the air thick with the smell of car-polish and a new, industrial sort of scent as if the trunk were the head, as if the car were an old dog, remembering past all else what it had been like to have been young, when the children were still scolded for marking the windows with their fingertips, when each new scratch had been met with regret, and not apathy.
And then the police found her, bagged and taped in the trunk of his car. Mrs. Hall failed to understand at first and clapped her hands together. They had to explain that her daughter was very much dead.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The sound was coming from the trunk of George’s car.
He knew that maybe someone would notice. Perhaps a businessman on his way home from a late-night drinking session.
But George had no choice. He was going to keep on driving…and kill this man.
I have a fascination with old traveling trunks. When I see them in antique stores, I want to buy them and store my papers, clothes and dreams. My grandparents used to call them valises. There is something about having baggage and organizing it for the new year which appeals to me.
She wanted to borrow my trunk. That led to a conversation and a job offer in China. Do I want to go to China? All expenses paid? Of course! All because of a trunk sitting unused in my shed.
I have a big trunk in which I like to fill it full of wonderful memories of things I have experienced. Like childhood memories of sledding and ice skating and skiing and hot cocoa. Great memories of school and higher eduation and traveling abroad. Moving to arizona and teaching and christian education. Marrying and having a family and educating and raising my children.
Once upon a time… there was an island of words. After a huge tsunami swept the island, there was only one word remain, submerged.
There is junk in my trunk and it’s getting deflowered.
See, you thought I was going to say debunked, didn’t you?
Well that just goes to show what a simple minded person you are. Shame on you!
Go back to Kansas, whitey!
I forget why I came here…
Uh, look. Cake!
I have a trunk! It is huge. I feill it with special things that remind me of my youth. Sometimes it is just full of clothes.The trunk is from my parents and has been painted a few times. I love the color of it now.
I wish I could be the trunk of your life.
So I can be sturdy enough to stay by your side,
And support you till we both die.
The trunk was filled with all sorts of memoirs. Those about the early childhood, when he first began writing them, to those about his most recent years and how he has changed over the past 20 years. He smiled to himself, brushing off the huge layer of grime.
“I never changed, did I?”
When I saw the size of the car trunk, I was taken aback, after learning that It would be impossible to get all of my luggage pack into it.
In my driveway there rests a car. On my car there is a trunk. In my trunk there lies a suitcase. A suitcase full of my only belongings, the very belongings I plan to take with me on my trip across America. A trip I hope will yield more than experiences, photos, and new friends, but true love as well. I start my journey today.
An elephant bends his long, curled, trunk to the wat at the riverside. Around are scattered leafless trees, isolated on the plains. Antelopes graze at the dry, brown, grass.
Trunk was exxelent but…i have trunk yesterday and suddenly i felt that i’a am going to …
In a cloud of dust sat the trunk. The very trunk that had yesterday disappeared. Where had it been? Was it a travelling trunk? Were we talking magic travel? Who will open it?
Like a slap to the face, the jolt of seeing him made her face flush red. No arms, no legs, just a rectangular slab of body that he waddled with like a seal along the side of the pool before tipping himself in.
One trunk. One whole lifetime, twenty-five years of possessions and memories, six square feet of space — the numbers didn’t add up.
The trunk of the car was small, confining. She felt like she was going to suffocate if she was forced to stay inside it much longer. Where could they be taking her? Why did they even want thing to do with her in the first place? It was insane. She hated this feeling of helplessness that they were instilling in her. Tied up, gagged and tossed into the trunk of a car like she was nothing but some extra luggage.
A trunk can fit a great many things, from a suitcase to a dead body. For that matter, a dead body can fit inside a suitcase, if it is appropriately segmented into pieces. That suitcase can then fit in the trunk of a car, and the car can be driven off a cliff into the mountains. Or better yet, drowned in a river.
BYłem pijany zeszłego tygodnia. Poszedłem spać i obudziłem się o 3:33. Pamiętam tylko to. Zmieniłem pozycję na bardziej wygodną. Koniec.
it opens and closes, always seems to offer more! the impulse is the trigger which keeps you await!
Grundo the elephant packed his trunk and loaded it into his Corolla. He had two weeks before Winter Rehearsals for Ringling Bros’ next show and he was going to make the most of his vacation. Tearing down route one toward Key West, he stopped by a roadside shop on Key Largo and bought a peanut butter sandwich. “This crap is Jif!” he proclaimed angrily, “I’m a Skippy man,” as he toppled the display of toothpaste and condoms.
When he got to Key West a couple hours later, he parked on Duval Street with one wheel on the curb. “Seven tequila shots and make it snappy!” he told the man behind the bar at Margaritaville. Twelve minutes later, he stumbled onto the sidewalk and puked on a hippie before passing out in front of a pedicab.
Closed, always holding in what was trying to escape. While we never knew what was truly contained, we had our hopes, our mad ideas of what could be in store. But as we wished and dreamed, reality had a way of slowly creeping outside the trunk…
I paced back and forth. The walls were too narrow and the hall too short. I hadn’t seen a way out of this one. Stuck in this trunk of a dilemma. Someone had strapped the leather flaps closed and sealed them with their brass belt buckles.
Car. Elephant. Tree.
Two kids lock themselves away for one helluva prank.
One mamma showers herself and her baby at the mouth of a river.
I lay on my back and look up at the foliage, the occasional drip breaking through the leaves and spotting my clothes.
I wasn’t sure if I should leave the trunk or take it. It was so pretty, old and smelled like leather… But it had come with the house. So much mystery surrounded the trunk. Even the owners before didn’t know where it came from. It had just… always been there.
the trunk of the car was barking at me. I could hear a faint roar along with it. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay around or needed to. But my first instinct was to step toward it.
I wasn’t quite sure what to think when I received the footlocker from the postman. After all, who ever received such large packages anymore? There was even talk about the USPS being discontinued altogether, though I suppose UPS and FedEx might have survived the culling if it came right down to it. Regardless, a trunk is not what one expects to see pop up on their doorstep one day, particularly when one hasn’t been expecting said footlocker in the first place!
In the trunk of the car, he desperately fought to escape. He kicked out the tail light so he could see where he was being taken. He could see behind him his wife driving to his rescue, but in a blink of an eye a gun shot was fired and the car that his wife was driving swerved off the road and she and he were gone forever.
Going back to school again. Me an Jen trying to fit everything in the trunk of her car. I don’t know how we always manage this. Or the six hour drive that follows.
Her screams were muffled by the duct tape over her mouth. The man had seemed so innocent earlier, reading his book and drinking his coffee. She had been so eager to meet him and so happy to see his face. Her tears wouldn’t stop and, try as she might, she struggled to fight her way out of his trunk.
Elephants have extremely large trunks. I also wish I lived in an old home with a unique trunk in the attic. I want to find beautiful antique trinkets.
The giant creature slowly lumbers toward me, and I am stuck, still, to stunned to move. I feel the grey limb closing around my neck, and the tension increasing, this is it, this is how its going to be.
The trunk was old, older even than the old woman who it belonged to.
She had followed the trunk’s singing, a harmony unlike any other she had heard before. The song had beckoned her, teasing her with the promise of adventure, coaxing her with the hope of something new in her life.
It led her to a small door, hidden behind old dresses wrapped in plastic and smelling of her grandmother, it had been waiting for someone to find her, waiting for excitement.
She slammed the top of the trunk shut, worn leather barely visible underneath the plethora of vibrant stickers.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” Rina said, wringing her hands as she leaned against the light blue doorframe.
“Shut it, ma,” snapped Halina back, latching the trunk with a satisfying click. Halina dragged the overstuffed trunk through the hallway, her mother cringing as the metal-tipped corners scraped against the wooden floors. The taxi was waiting for her downstairs, bright yellow against the muted orange and gray of the autumn. Her long since outgrown tee-shirt strained against her breasts as Halina pulled the luggage down the apartment steps; a loud bang rang throughout the building as each new step was hit.
Rina watched from the window in the apartment, forehead pressed against the glass. Her daughter emerged into the bright afternoon sun, her eyes invisible behind the reflection of her glasses and hair pulled every direction by the wind. Her course lead only towards the taxi, which quickly swallowed Halina and her things, as Rina’s breath fogged against the windowpane.
bootay
dayum
It was beaten up, badly. It’s color had faded to reveal a tired brown. A worn out trunk, used endlessly by her previous owner.
The girl loved in nonetheless and proudly carried with her around the station, which was bustling with excitement. There was smoke and steam and the sound of boots against brick and tiled floors, a sound she would never hate or dislike or get sick of.
Im suffocating, slowly but surely. I’ve become small and compacted, covered in sweat. I don’t know how or why I’ve ended up in the back of this car.
There was lint in the spaces, the air thick with the smell of car-polish and a new, industrial sort of scent as if the trunk were the head, as if the car were an old dog, remembering past all else what it had been like to have been young, when the children were still scolded for marking the windows with their fingertips, when each new scratch had been met with regret, and not apathy.
someday,
i’m going to go to the west
and drive my car through the trunk of an old sequoia tree.
and someday,
you’ll hang a rope from its branches
and say goodbye with me.
And then the police found her, bagged and taped in the trunk of his car. Mrs. Hall failed to understand at first and clapped her hands together. They had to explain that her daughter was very much dead.