For the final campaign challenge from Rach Writes and the Platform Building Campaign, we were given the following:
Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show:
- that it’s morning,
- that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
- that the MC (main character) is bored
- that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
- that something surprising happens.
So, let's get on with it, shall we? Enjoy.....
The Other Side
"I didn't think I would ever witness the sky light up with a new day." Thoughts of the storm crashed through her.
"I know, me either. Nice swimming, by the way." He whispered in his usual synbatec tone, making her warm with security.
A thick heat spread across them with the climbing of the sun. She sighed. The tacise of the sand cut through her skirt, now drenched. Water rushing to the shore should emit peace. Here, the tide mocked, pulling away bits of sanctuary.
“How long do you think it will be before we’re missed?” She blurted into the lengthy quiet. The maddening silence ended.
“A while.” His face flushed red, and sweat popped out across his forehead.
“Are you sick? Is that horrible stench getting to you?” she fanned her nose and breathed a few shallow quick breaths. “What is that?”
They stood investigating the small area, discovering just beyond them the partially eaten swollen animal. “Oh my no!” She screamed not able to take her eyes from the jagged blood stained teeth. “The Wastopaneers are real!”
His stomach rebelled as the heavy air filled his nostrils. An acidic swallow produced a cold wet clamminess across his neck.
“The stories. They’re real.” She hushed her words. “We won’t make it here will we?”
Reality hammered into his mind. “Don’t you know?” He laughed.
“Oh, do be quiet. They’ll come. They’ll come, and we won’t be able to fight them off.” She closed the distance between them, broken shells splintering into her feet.
“If there’s truth to the stories, and this,” he pointed stepping back, as not to fill his lungs again with heated air of rot, “this THING is dead….”
Her eyes widened.
Stepping to him and sliding her hand into his, she whispered. “Then so….. are we?”
I'm #23 in the challenge, so pop on over, scroll down, and "like" my post. Looking forward to reading all the entries!