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Day 14: Randomized Fiction
If you’d like to hear me read this story instead, or perhaps follow along, check out the CrashdLanding Podcast!
Book Cover created with Canva

“I say, I’m the oldest, I make the rules!” Ed said, slamming his hands down in the table, disrupting the sheets and forms atop it.

“And I say we go with my idea!” Bea said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And I say we charge in with guns blazing and tear the place UP! WOOHOO!” Xavier said gesturing with dual finger guns raised

The elder two looked at him like he was crazy. He always was a little wild, ever since they were little.

“Okay, okay,” Ed began again, after a minute. “Let’s maybe grab a snack, sit down, and we’ll talk this out.”

“Fine.” Bea reluctantly agreed.

After they’d all eaten, and were no longer hangry. They got back to planning.

“Now that we’re all done with that,” Ed began, I say we just start at the beginning.”

Bea and Xavier nodded in agreement.

“What’s the mission again.” He asked them.

“I still say gu—.”


Xavier crossed his arms. “Fine.” He mumbled.

“If it comes down to us needing guns then something has gone terribly wrong.” Ed said.

“But it probably wouldn’t hurt, just for protection, just in case.” Bea said.

Xavier’s eyes lit up. “I know just who to ask!” They all knew who he’d ask.

“Okay, we’ve satisfied someone, now, back to the important part.” Ed said. “How are we going to get the painting back?”

The painting in question was one by their famous aunt, C.F. Keathley. It was called, “A Woman’s Wish”. The subject was a lighthouse on a cliff. It wasn’t her best work, but it had meaning. It also had a hidden secret. The painting had been accidentally sold at an estate sale two years prior. Their aunt had gone missing and was declared legally dead by her husband, their evil uncle. Because of her fame, the painting fetched a hefty price, and the uncle and soon moved to Japan with his new wife.

“Sofia gave us the name of the person who has it, he’s a museum curator, right?”

“Yes, his name is Roderick Bridges.” He said, looking at a sheet of paper. “He runs the Umbratic Museum of Modern Art.” Ed said, “Apparently he’s wanted to have a installation of Aunt C’s art there for years.”

“Umbratic is a weird word.” Bea said. She googled it. “It means shadowy. That’s questionable.”

“Not funny ha ha, funny weird.” Xavier said. “I’ve contacted Pops. He’ll have what we need ASAP.” The elder too nodded. Pops was code name for their supplier. He got them what they needed when they needed it. He was also a cantankerous old man, stubborn and set in his ways. “He said it’ll cost us, though.”

“He always says that.” Bea said.

“Okay, back to the plan.” Ed said. “We need to get into the museum, find the painting, and get it out.”

“First we need to figure out where it is.” Bea said. “Its been two years since it sold, it could be on display, or still in storage. Or maybe he’s had it cleaned.” She opened up the Umbratic’s website. “It says here they’re having a gala in two days, introducing an exhibition called, “Missing in Art” featuring works created by artist who are missing or deceased.”

“That would be a really big exhibition.” Ed said.

“Right?” Bea agreed. “Anyway, there’s a few of Aunt C’s paintings on display, including the lighthouse!”

“We need to get into that Gala!” Ed said.

“Wait,” Bea said, pausing. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“FANCY DRESSES?!” Bea asked, wide eyed.

“Fancy dresses,” both boys said in unison.

She squealed loudly.

“You want Pops to get that too?” Xavier asked.

“NO!” The two eldest agreed.

From there they had the whole thing figured out.

Scope out the museum two days before the gala, get a feel of the place, possibly security. They would join the gala; it was established that Pops could obtain the tickets. At the gala they would cause a ruckus, an important skill they’d honed as children. Xavier, who probably shouldn’t have knives, would find a way to remove the painting from it’s frame.

“What if there’s some type of sensor in the frame in case of theft?” Xavier asked.

“The alarms will already have been raised by this point, the only problem would be if you’re fast enough.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.” He winked.

“Good, because this whole plan is hinging on your speed,” Bea said.

“No, the whole plan is hinging on whether or not that painting holds the information we need to find C and Mom.”

Procrastination slapped me right in the face and said, “just don’t do anything at all” and i listened. I managed to get it written and posted by midnight but added some things after, like the images. Once I got started I really enjoy the idea, so I might make any more I add to this short story part of premium. Let me know what ya think!

Thanks for Reading.-