Dusk: #writephoto

photo from Sue Vincent

I dreamed this story Saturday night in response to Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt. Something a little different.

***

I can’t remember much bout that time, cept for the crazy animal fear. Like you weren’t in yer body but thrashing around outside yer skin, a thing gutted and clawing at some god to lift yer sorry ass outta there. Bombs pounded on our camp, and the screaming lay over the roar and rumble like I was trapped with a flock of gulls, and a pack of wolves were tearing at our throats, only it was worse than that.

And the reek of all them loose shits and us pissing in our pants, including mine. We were burrowed deep and bunched like rabbits, and it was blacker then death with yer eyes pinched shut. Already buried alive, I think. A funny thing how that situashun was better than being out there—tho I weren’t laughing. No, not at all.

Mason kep talking in that flat, butter voice of his thru the whole thing like he was telling lullaby stories come lights-out. I think Mason’s stories saved our asses on those days. Powerful stories bout life after the Reclamayshun, after the killing is worn out and we can go home.

Then my ears is ringing, and I’m breathing dust like I’m drowning. Some little kid’s keening so shrill it slices thru the exploshuns. And my heart is jumping on my ribs hard, and I know I jus gotta get out a there. It’s real bad, that feeling. My mind is so beat on like an old rug that it comes to me clean and clear—I got no choice in this life but where I’m gonna die. And I don’t wanna die jammed in a hole.

Then it all stop. All of it stop. The bombing and screaming and coffing up dirt. Mason makes us sit for seems a week until we gonna die from jus sitting still, already buried in our grave and starving to boot. When he say to give it a go, we dig out, and the world don’t look the same at all. It’s a hell place like the devil took a shovel and turned up the whole land for spring planting.

Mason stands atop the wreck and stares up at the dusk sky. There ain’t one single bomb raining thru the air. Little white puff clouds look fresh-washed and soft on that gold and blue, like a summer dress on a pretty girl. The world ain’t all broken up after all, and I think maybe Mason was right when he was telling us stories and promising hope.

145 thoughts on “Dusk: #writephoto

  1. This is great. I wasn’t expecting a story like that based on the photo, but it totally fits and I love how you made it your own. Awesome job! Keep it coming!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Antonia says:

    You really made the character come alive with the way you wrote this. You can gleen a little about him in this short piece. Great job!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Aquileana says:

    Wonderful writing… a terrifying story. War at the background… the need to make it through… and hope that remains, no matter what. I truly like the amtmosphere you have created. Absolutely mesmerizing and conving … Love & best wishes, dear Diana! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for reading, Aquileana. A different style than I usually write, but flash fiction allows for some experimentation. 🙂 I’m so glad you enjoyed the story despite the topic. Have a lovely day. ❤

      Like

  4. Stunning piece of writing.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Wow! After seeing the picture this story wasn’t at all what I’d imagined what it would be which actually makes it all the better! It’s amazing that you could remeber so much of your dream to write it down, Diana, I seldomly do. Though I do sometimes think during a dream ‘Hey, this would actually make for a good story’ but when I wake up it’s all gone. 😊

    Liked by 1 person

    • It was a bit of a stretch with that prompt, Sarah, but my excuse is I was sleeping! Ha ha. I’d forgotten exactly what it looked like. 🙂 I forget my dreams too, so I jot them down in the middle of the night while half asleep. And somethings I struggle to decipher the scribbles in the morning! Thanks for stopping by to read. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  6. the pretty poems says:

    i really enjoyed reading this and hadn’t had the chance to comment until today. but i love how this first person is written, the writer did a great job. it instantly reminded me of some of my favorite books with a strong first person narrative – like Flowers for Algernon.

    Liked by 1 person

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