I love a good writing prompt. Every 2 weeks I give myself the challenge to grab a writing prompt online that sparks an idea and try to write a piece of fiction from the prompt in and around 500 words.

Here’s my latest attempt! Enjoy 🙂

---

WRITING PROMPT:
Write a story about someone who receives — or makes — a life-changing, anonymous donation.

---

The Happiness Letter
Written by Jess Knaus

Three months to live. Six at best.

Aria turned the kettle on, her numbness planting her feet to wait until it was done. The sky outside her kitchen window was dull – mellow and cloud-covered. A pigeon on the fence trilled softly. She found odd comfort in knowing the next few minutes had a purpose – nothing else needed to happen except heating up water with an electrical charge. This goal was making a cup of tea. After this was complete she’d make another goal. Then another.

The long-term had suddenly become much, much shorter.

The surgical and therapeutic treatment options had been exhausted. Intellectually she knew what she needed to accept, but she wasn’t quite ready for it. She would stuff that reality down until she was sure she could feel it – properly.

The tea leaves spun in her teapot, seeping their darkness through the steaming water. Once ready, she poured it into her cup, added a dash of milk and sat on a dining chair. Just drink – just finish this cup.

From across the room she heard her phone vibrate. ‘Who calls people these days?’ she wondered. She screened it.

But the caller didn’t give up, calling again. Placing her cup on the table she wandered over to her dancing phone – it was her Aunt Vivian. 

‘Agh,’ she said.

Aunt Vivian was an unusual woman. The rest of the family had always shared their slightly off-colour opinions, ‘she’s odd’, ‘sitting up in that castle’, drawing comparisons to Miss Havisham. But her own truth was that she loved her Aunt – she just knew that no conversation with her was without its peculiarities. She decided to answer.

‘Hi Auntie.’

‘Hello dear, I’m sorry to bother you given the circumstances but I’d rather you not be out of reach right now. How are you?’ she asked in her proper tone.

‘I’m fine, Auntie,’ she replied with a slightly sour tone of her own.

‘Well I’m glad to hear it. I’m not going to beat around the bush darling. I have some money for you.’

Money? She’d always heard money and death collided intensely – maybe this was the start of it around her own passing.

‘Auntie if this is family money it should be going to my father, you know that.’

‘To correct you, my love, it’s not my family money. It’s my late husband’s, your uncle, God rest his soul.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘His family’s investments from generations past. I have no use for it myself, I prefer the simple life these days. There is, however, a condition as to the use of this gift.’

‘What’s the condition?’

‘You use it to make yourself happy.’

Aria couldn’t respond. Aunt Vivian continued.

‘Darling, you’re dying and you have not even reached the age of thirty. This cannot have been an easy or emotionless journey. No doubt your joy has dissolved amongst medical bills and bad news. I’ve watched your face these last few years, I’ve witnessed the same sinking my husband experienced as he faded. I want you to write to me with how you will improve your happiness with the money I send. You have my address. I shall be wiring you the money this afternoon, please confirm in the letter that you received it. Ok my dear, must run. I’ll call you again on the weekend.’

Click. She was gone.

Aria dropped the phone into the pool of tears that had gathered at her feet.

That night she logged into her bank account. Three hundred thousand dollars.

Aria grabbed a notepad and pen from the kitchen, sat at the head of her dining table, and began to write.

---

Check out more of my written work on my blog.