I waited patiently, veiled in frosty shadow, as Mary’s man set out for the mines. My heart drummed, nervous hands perspired; the only sound, the faintest whisper of snowflakes falling onto the cobblestones. She glanced towards the shadows; the door left ajar.
These 42 words, answering the question, ‘What time is it?‘ form my entry into this week’s yeah write Microfiction challenge.
Entwined in every flake of winter snow,
and all the songs of spring:
Your voice.
Between the scented breaths of summer breeze,
and the crunch of withered, autumn leaves:
Our memories.
I can never be alone;
No matter how alone I feel.
These 42 words form my entry into this week’s Gargleblaster challenge over at Yeah Write.
Cool, clammy soil crushes down on breaking ribs.
Unshed tears remain sealed behind closed eyelids.
A wireworm burrows its way into bulging veins;
A beetle clicks.
Silence begets darkness –
No air to breathe, no voice to scream.
My final hope:
To wake.
These 42 words form my entry into this week’s Gargleblaster challenge over at Yeah Write. The words were prompted by the question ‘Is something crawling on me?‘. I hope you enjoy where I went with it. Thanks again to everybody who voted for my ‘Crowd Fave’ piece last week, much appreciated!
Impaled flags stiffen in the pungent summer breeze.
A single, riderless mare bolts for home.
Foaming;
Frantic.
Distant, snow-peaked mountains sink slowly beneath a bloody red sunrise.
Crimson framed silhouettes swoop and circle through the tremulous horizon.
The glories of battle await.
These 42 words form my entry into this weeks Gargleblaster challenge over at Yeah Write. The words were prompted by the question ‘Why do birds suddenly appear?‘. I hope you enjoy where I went with it.
Pleased to say that this story won the top spot in the voter’s poll. As ever I am flattered that people saw something in my work.
…because I have life still to live –
Stories to tell,
People to love.
Yet, sometimes it’s hard:
Hard to repel the doubt;
An exhausting struggle to let sanity prevail.
But then I see her smile and know:
Know we’re worth the fight.
These 42 words form my entry into this weeks Gargleblaster challenge over at Yeah Write. The words were prompted by the question ‘Tell me something, old friend: why are you fighting?‘. I hope you enjoy where I went with it.
Winter seemed reluctant to release its hold of the forest that year – even more so than normal. All the paths up to Jepson Point had been blocked since the first heavy snows drifted in last fall. Even on that day, as the sun yawned across a blemish free, azure Alaskan sky, the chilled air remained stubbornly resistant to the approaching spring.
It was cold, it was – but at the same time, not as cold as it looked. It’s hard to explain. So I didn’t. It’s just the way I’ll remember it.
As the Rangers made their way into the trees, tiny drops of snowmelt splashed into freshly made paw prints: wary footsteps lightly trodden by the first animals to venture from the warmth of their dark, winter hiding places. Up in the canopy the opening bars of an embryonic spring song whispered through the pines. It took them all night, but finally the Point was in sight.
I’m not sure why we couldn’t have got there sooner. It might have ended differently. Maybe it wouldn’t. No, I don’t think it would.
Radio contact with the cabins nestled on the edge of Green Lake had stopped three weeks back – lines down were the explanation. Even in the days of mobile technology man seemingly remains in communication at the pleasure of nature; lines were down all over the forest.
The forest. Beautiful and terrifying. I never wanted to be anywhere else; I’ll never go back. How can I?
The cabins were quiet. The lake’s eerily green waters still frozen. Ribbons of smoky fog swirled amidst the early morning battle of sun and ice. Piles of chopped wood lay gathered in neat stacks at the gable end of the first cabin after the lake head.
Almost too neat.
The windows remained shuttered. The snow covered chimney said there was no fire burning in the grate. There was no answer as Chief Ranger McLennan rapped firmly on the door. Unlike in the movies the door didn’t then creak open: it was locked from inside and the key was in the door. It took the persistent boot of Assistant Ranger Jefferson to prize a way in. On the bed is where they found her – blood stains everywhere.
We should have waited for the others. We should have.
Nobody knew who she was or where she’d come from. The cord between frozen mother and child painted with ice-tipped crystals. The radio crackled in the corner of the cabin. Blood smeared the smashed controls; there was no sign of the hunter who had rented the cabin. Without thinking a shivering Assistant Ranger Jeffries set the hearth ablaze. Slowly the cabin’s single room began to defrost – to feel alive again.
From the bed there came a child’s cry; a mother screamed a scream of unimagined pain. Harry McLennan’s last words were ‘Run, for the love of God, run’. Assistant Ranger Jeffries remembered nothing more in the cabin – he has never been able to recall how he got back.
I know you don’t believe me. But that’s the way it was. I know that’s the way it was. I just wanted to get warm. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Winter has returned to the forest. The cabins at Jepson Point now lie broken and abandoned – a mother’s screams still echo through the pines; her child now silent and still once more.
Yes, I admit this is weird, but it’s truly what came to mind when I read the prompt i.e it had to be written! I hope the crowd over at Yeahwrite find something in it they might enjoy.
fromheretothere 