Writing Prompt: “Look, there is writing on the back.”

Happy Monday everyone. I hope you had a fabulous weekend. There was a lot of driving in mine, but otherwise not bad. So let’s jump into our Monday morning with a brain awakening (hopefully) prompt. Timers set and off we go…

I like the two personalities. I actually think they would work better in another story I’ve had noodling for a while. So that’s fun.

Monday, February 5^th: “Look, there is writing on the back.”

“Look, there is writing on the back.” Sarah flipped the drawing over. “Thirty-three steps past to oak and into the meadow.  Turn towards the rising sun and through the leaves you will see the truth come to light.”

I frowned at the comment.   I remembered the oak.  It succumbed during the last major storm to both rot and wind.  It was, even now stacked up for firewood.  I glanced towards the fire crackling merrily not more than a few feet away.  I was fairly certain some of the oak was fueling it now.

“Isn’t the oak gone?” I asked.  I knew better than to make a definitive statement, especially now when Sarah’s spirit of discovery had been keyed to feverish excitement.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, waving off my concern.  “We know where it was.  That will be enough.”  Before I could add anything more, she turned and raced off towards the front door.  There was nothing to do but follow her.  She paused long enough to grab a coat before heading out the door.  I grabbed my own from its hook and put it on as I raced after her, knowing if I stopped I would be left behind.

Across the yard we flew, me still trying to get my left arm in the sleeve and fighting the wind to do it.  It seemed to have decided my coat was the perfect plaything and in the end I found I had to stop and get myself to rights before rushing after Sarah.  I found her breathless at the stop of where the old oak once stood. 

To either side of the tree the meadow fell, and I wondered if she would choose the south meadow or the north one as the meadow mentioned on the back of the drawing. She chose north.  She paced out thirty-three steps and I wondered if the angle of the steps mattered.  The directions were vague.  Not only were there two meadows to choose from but as each meadow rolled away in vast directions there would be angles to consider if we needed to be on a specific spot.

Still Sarah would listen to no details.  If I raised them, I was simply spoiling her fun.  I wasn’t certain what she expected to find out here, what she thought this treasure map led to.  I only knew she thought it was a treasure map because the front drawing had a small drawing of a pirate and a compass at the bottom of it.  I thought it weak evidence to go thinking it was a treasure map in the first place, but her mind was made up. 

She reached a count of thirty-three paces and I wondered if she was as tall as the person making the map and if her steps were the same.  She turned and looked.

“That’s west,” I told her, still panting from our run.  “The sun rises in the east.”

“I know that,” Sarah said loftily.  “|I was just testing you.” She turned to face the east.