One moment of chance can shatter despair—or expose who we truly are when no one is watching.
Writing Prompt
Joel Petri slept wherever the night allowed him to survive. Sometimes it was under bridges, sometimes in cardboard-lined alleyways, sometimes stretched stiffly across park benches. Where he slept depended on the weather—and how hungry he was.
Two years earlier, his wife had left him for a man she’d been seeing in secret. Joel never recovered. The betrayal drained his will to work, to plan, to care. He lost his job. The bank closed his loan. The repo truck hauled away his car. Eventually, Joel drifted onto the streets with a shopping cart full of things that once mattered.
This night was warm. Joel sat half-awake on a park bench, eyes locked on a trash can about thirty meters away. Hunger sharpened his focus. He hoped—prayed—that someone might toss a half-eaten hamburger into it.
Luck came wearing a different disguise.
A man walked by carrying a paper sack and dropped it into the trash can. Joel waited until the man disappeared into the darkness, then hurried forward before one of the others noticed. His heart pounded as he lifted the bag.
Too heavy.
Joel peeked inside.
Money.
Fives. Tens. Twenties. Hundreds. A thick, impossible stack.
He looked around. No one. He shoved the bag under his shirt, hustled to his cart, and pushed it away fast, pulse racing louder than his thoughts.
For the first time in two years, Joel imagined a future. A room with a door that locked. Clean clothes. A hot meal eaten slowly.
Then came the fear.
Someone would be looking for this money. Someone desperate. Someone dangerous. The thought crawled up his spine and froze him.
Joel stopped walking.
The bag felt heavier now—not with cash, but with consequence.
That’s where your story begins.
Writer’s Question
What choice does Joel make—and what does that choice cost him in the end?