The wind rushes over the top of the gorge, overpowering even
the bird calls. Deep inside,
silence is marred only by the crunch of gravel under her Keens. There is no sun down this far and she
shivers, at once wishing for a jacket but also relishing feeling cold. Feeling cold is . . . well,
it’s feeling something. Better
than nothing, right? She sighs,
feeling a familiar waive of sadness sweep over her. Alone time should be helpful, but when she is alone, there is nothing to interrupt her thoughts…questions…longing…
Ow – her toe jammed something hard. She squints in the dim light and sees
an old signpost. Probably either
very old – gold rush days – or from the old tourist trap mining tours set up
near by. No matter to her, so long
as she is alone. In no mood for
company today.
Trudging on, the gorge widens and she sees the fork up
ahead. Relief. The walls were becoming
oppressive. She is much more of a
view person – open spaces. Why the
gorge called to her today, she doesn’t know. But being enveloped by the steep barren walls did seem to bring
some comfort for a time.
Up ahead, to the right, the gorge banks steeply down. She sees the smooth sandy sides and
smiles, knowing that what looks like danger levels out to the hidden beach on Red
creek. Farther past the beach is
the path to town. Her steps slow, her hand combing through her hair, other arm
hugging her body. Seeming to hold herself together and give
strength.
Sighing…she turns left, up a gentle slop - the easy road. One more turn and their house beckons,
comforting lights, laughter coming from inside. Taking a deep breath, she straightens up, puts on a smile and
opens the door.
Hey! Great start! Are you jumping in?
ReplyDeleteMaybe - we'll see. I was inspired by the "assignment:" This week’s prompt for the Friday Fiction:
Delete"Stuck in a rut
March is greeen, but winter still comprises 2/3 of the month. Spring is not until the tail end. So this prompt ensures our character is stuck in a (metaphorical or literal, you decide) muddy rut: frozen in a place that despite all his/her inner urgings, s/he can’t move forward or look backward.
Why? Describe the inertia using dialog, imagery, whatever it takes."