PHOTO PROMPT Copyright -Mary Shipman
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is taking a break from Friday Fictioneers this week. She has other commitments. So she’s indulging in the time-honored tradition of summer reruns. I remember the prompt from last year. It didn’t inspire me at the time, but I’ve decided to take another stab at it. My 100 words are below:
Rachael searched wearily through the rubble of the bombed out town for a secure place to spend the night. Another 243 miles to get home, if it was still there. Two weeks of walking had not made her hopeful. She scooted under fallen roof timbers that supported half of a leaning wall and shrugged out of her backpack. Tomorrow she would have to find food and water to replenish her supplies. It was getting colder at night. Soon she would need blankets. She curled in on herself. Hidden from the world, she closed her eyes and prayed not to dream.
It’s been a while since I joined the Friday Fictioneers and I’m late this time. I just felt the need of a prompt today and found inspiration with Rochelle. The story is a bit of a change for me, but it’s what the picture brought to mind. You can check out other offerings by following the link at the bottom.
Ted’s eyes fluttered open. His tongue probed gently at the pain he had almost come to accept as normal. A flash of memory brought him alert. Adrenaline panic jerked his head around, looking for the source of his pain. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out.
The bloody instruments lay scattered on the metal tray beside him, but the man who had wielded them was gone. Ted’s eyes focused on the window before him. The sight of figures in black armor pouring out the opened door of a white van flooded his body with relief. Rescue at last.
Losing everything I had saved for Miranda may be a good thing after all. I think perhaps the reason I was so bogged down on it was the range I was planning. From the time she was 16 until middle age was just too much of a time-span. I don’t think I have the experience to manage that.
One of my favorite English Professors told us that revision did not mean simply rearranging material, but actually changing your vision of the story. The former should properly be called editing. Revisioning is a much deeper process and should properly be spelled re-visioning. In other words, tearing the story down to the outline, then rearranging that skeleton as necessary before rebuilding the flesh. So that’s where I am headed. Read more