Friday Fictioneers presented by Madison Woods. See a picture, write a 100 word story, share it with the world. Feel free to play along if you like!
Day 11. I stopped walking last night. The pain in my thigh stabbed without end, a thousand tiny needles, each one a burning spasm of misery riding neurons and jumping synapses to my brain. The unfamiliar response is to stop, to go back.
I can never go back.
The fog rolled in last night. Cool and calm. The gray color matching the ooze weeping from the hole in my thigh.
I hear them in the distance now. Relentless.
I roll over, the mire against my face. My central nervous system no long nervous, I ready myself for a new home.