What's the worse that could happen? So I get a few more wrinkles from my Thinky Face...

What’s the worse that could happen? So I get a few more wrinkles from my Thinkie Face…

I’ve decided to join Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.

It’s a writing challenge in response to a photograph Rochelle posts each Wednesday.

The kicker is that the submission must be 100 words or less.

That’s a real challenge for me because:

1. I’m a sociologist by training and no one can write long, drawn out, complicated sentences like a sociologist can (except maybe a philosopher, but I doubt it)–see what I mean?

2. I’m in total, absolute, diabolically complete love with adjectives.

3. I never met an adverb that I didn’t invite in willingly and unquestioningly.

4. I feel the need to explain myself over and over and over again. Yes. I do.

5. Having deadlines and word limits makes me stressed and stress gets me all conflusterated.

But, I’ve never let a list of five things stop me from doing anything before, so why start (stop?) now?

Right!

Here I go.

Watch me.

Are you watching me now?

Are you watching me?

*****

keck

This is the photograph about which I’m supposed to write 100 words or less of something. (Those 16 words don’t count and neither do these 11 words.)

 

Mirage

He dropped to his knees, his body trembling.

With raw, unfamiliar hands, he wiped his tear-stung eyes.

“It’s so freaking bright. Where the hell am I?”

The eerie sound of air whispering through emptiness answered him.

“How long have I been out here? What happened to me?”

He moaned as his voice disappeared into the vacuum of silence.

“Am I hot or cold? I can’t tell.” He frantically slapped his arms, then legs, to feel something real.

After a few moments he looked up, squinting. “Are those igloos?”

Pushing himself up, he grabbed a handful of sand.

*****

So…

I counted. It was exactly 97 words. But were they 97 good words?

Should I try this again next week?

Yeah, no. It's hard. But if I write better as a result, you'll thank me, because you have to read this malarky, not me. See? I really need to tighten up my writing, People.

Yeah, no. It’s hard. But if I write better as a result, you’ll thank me, because you have to read this malarkey, not me. See? I really need to tighten up my writing, People.