It’s time for my latest offering to Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction, a weekly prompt where there is no word limit, just a limit on the number of sentences. Plus, although she provides a word prompt, it is just for direction only – you don’t have to include the word itself in your contribution.
This week, the prompt is very apt for me, as I will be off on a week’s holiday tomorrow (hurrah!) – TRAVEL.
Do let me know what you think of my offering below – and whilst you’re at it, why not take a look at everyone else’s offerings (I’m sure they’ll be fabulous), and even give it a go yourself…
– Undercurrents –
He had spent most of the past year planning the journey; it had been on his mind every day.
How to conserve his energy, what route to take, how to survive the most desolate of places – it had been a relief to stop thinking and finally set off.
Now at last his destination was just visible on the horizon, and the relief at knowing that he was almost there, that he had survived insurmountable odds, was indescribable.
He scanned the land below; the cities, the deserts, the forests and the seemingly endless oceans were now a distant memory in his mind, to be savoured when he came to rest.
The air whistled past as he adjusted, turned and prepared to land; migration was over, for another year.
Below is my offering for week 86′s challenge word, which is ‘crack’. As you will see from the relevant blog post, the challenge is to write between 33 and 333 words of fiction, non-fiction, poetry or prose, based on the 3rd definition from the Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary. This week the 3rd definition of ‘crack’ is:
Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!
– Undercurrents –
I didn’t notice it at first – let’s face it, gradual change is insidious. It gets in everywhere, like flood-water rising slowly, subtly towards your house. By the time it appears on your radar, it’s already lifting the floorboards. Then, the damage is already done.
I said: it’s never too late.
That crack, that subtle shift, it was probably there long before. I imagine it appeared in the night, like a member of the French Resistance, leaving its traces, waiting for its presence to be felt at a later date. Who can remember the catalyst now? At the time, everything felt so urgent, so important, so injurious.
Looking back, none of it was worth the fallout that infected us all, that broke us apart, that shattered our hearts.
That crack – it became a fissure. Then before we could try to take back our words, the inch wide gap was suddenly a yawning chasm, vast enough to swallow us, and our vitriol, whole.
None of us had the presence of mind to make the life-saving leap in time. None of us cared enough to risk ourselves.
You said: too much has passed between us.
I’ll take notice of cracks in the future. At least, that’s what I tell myself.