Yeah Write Microfiction: Medium of Exchange

11/6/2019

The shop door closed on my hand, catching the last two fingers. I breathed through the pain. “How much for this?” I asked, pointing to the accursed ring.
The shopkeep pulled it free, stared, weighed. “Three hundred.”
I left with an empty hand and a full wallet.

4 Comments

Margaret link

11/6/2019 07:38:33 pm

Clever take on the prompt!

asha

11/7/2019 12:16:27 am

OH! The shop really wanted that ring. I like the hint of malevolence in this.

LaissezFaire link

11/7/2019 10:28:53 am

Oh! I felt those crushed fingers, that's going to smart for a while. Months if it bruised the fingernails. I like how you left it up to interpretation what the ring signified. It could be engagement, wedding, heirloom, the only thing deadbeat parents left, stolen...it all depends on your mood when you read it.

Christine link

11/7/2019 12:24:38 pm

I love the implication that the ring itself might be to blame for the squashed fingers - that it could be cursed in both a metaphorical and a magical sense.

Yeah Write Microfiction: Medium of Exchange

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