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August 24, 2012
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.
23 Comments
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Michael B. Fishman
Michaelsfishbowl 
Eew. Not a good situation. Powerful descriptions. I could feel his pain.
http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2012/08/22/escape/
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Nice imagry and description.
Write on! I want to hear more. 🙂
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I’m not liking the gray ooze. We need some antibiotics here. But of course sleeping in the mire doesn’t help. Fun details for the “adventure” of this character. Will he/she make it? Hmmm . . .
I’m here: http://wrasselings.blogspot.com/2012/08/friday-fictioneers-firmament.html
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Very vivid. Do I sense a resignation towards death? Poor guy. Very well written. Mine is here: http://readinpleasure.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/fridayfictioneers-light-on-the-hill/
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You sense correctly.
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Your description of his pain makes me feel it.. Beautifully written
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Tense and filled with the mystery of what happened to him. I think his days are numbered….
Mine is here: http://erinleary.wordpress.com/2012/08/23/flash-friday-fiction-13/
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Vivid and clear. The neurological description takes the reader away from the pain, tho.
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Thank you, Bumba. I hadn’t thought of the description taking away from experiencing the pain. I appreciate the feedback!
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Poor man. I felt for him.
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Eerie and emotionally charged. I love the line, “I ready myself for a new home.”
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Some vivid descriptions here, Michael. I have a feeling that fog is not merely literal. You conjure a great sense of place here, and of the narrator’s despair.
By the way, I think one of your fish is sick. I fed them and he just wasn’t up for it!
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Thank you! As to that fish, I think they play hard to get every once in awhile. But I’ll keep an eye on them nonetheless to make sure one of them isn’t floating face up!
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A lot of story for 100 words! You put us right in there, experiencing his suffering. Good job.
Here’s mine: http://unexpectedpaths.com/friday-fictioneers/pillar-of-salt/
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Thank you!
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I like how you worked the fog into the story. It also conveys the grayness of his situation and his state of mind. Just a small thing–in the last sentence that I like, I think you probably want “no longer nervous”.
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You’re right, I had a typo in that last sentence.
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good one, in the last line did you mean “longer as opposed to long” ? was death or capture awaiting?
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Yeah, that was supposed to be “longer”. When I wrote it I envisioned he had chosen death.
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I’m no doctor, but gray ooze weeping from a hole in a leg can’t possibly be a good thing.
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Where have you been lately? Missed you and your fish. Wonder what happened to him. Is he a wounded soldier waiting for help or death? Whatever the answer…it’s a sad and hopeless situation to be in. Nice work. I’m #36 on the list.
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Will there be an entry for day 12, I wonder? I can feel his pain and struggle.
http://mysocalleddutchlife.wordpress.com/2012/08/24/the-haar-ff-240812/
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LOL, I just though the same thing as above — day 12? Then I thought, is it death he awaits or capture — or a change? ‘I can never go back.’ was particularly strong. Well done!
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