Day Six of My500Words

My 500 Words - Day 6: Tell Someone Else's Story


Today's #My500Words task suggests telling a friend's story, re-writing the end to a popular novel or putting yourself in the shoes of your neighbour...

Oh yes! Now we are getting somewhere! No more introspection and memories. Now things get interesting. Now we play with imagination and start poking the brain squirrels and getting them agitated, chasing them around the room with a chainsaw until there are bits of orange fluff everywhere.  

But typically, today I am blocked. I've had a bad day. I have noisy neighbours from hell, which means today's been stressful and I'm in no mood to write. As my lottery win and plans to retire somewhere isolated, like Maine, doesn't look as if it will be happening anytime soon, I'm going to cheat and use additional random word prompts. 

The random words I used to kick it off were...

Regret
Sword
Stake

Sorry, it's a bit of a grim one... But it is Halloween night after all... 

Adding the usual disclaimer that the point of these daily challenges is to write freely and to flow creatively without self censure, without pausing to check grammar, spelling or punctuation. So there may be horrific examples of both.

Daniel's Story


Well part of it...


He had no regrets, he told himself as he walked along the windy, grassy cliff edge. He knew it was all going to catch up with him eventually. Daniel stood looking out to sea, hands in his pockets, not caring that the wind whipped his hair in his face. But what now? Run? Stay and face the consequences. There was more at stake now than ever. He had to get out of the house. The saccharin sisters with their persistent chortling was pushing him too close to making a decision. He wished he could run a sword through both of them and end it all. He was sick of the pretence. Daniel was a patient man, but two years in their insipid company was starting to take it's toll.

He had been chosen to infiltrate. It had been a success. What was taking so long? He followed the footpath down to the cove, carefully placing his feet. The path was worn but thin and treacherous following last year's storms. No one used the path since Gordon had slipped and fell to his death on the flat, black, sandy bedrock below. Daniel had carried the boy's broken body back up the cliff side and all the way back to the house. By the time he walked the two miles back along the dust track, there were streaks of tears running through the dust on his face. 

Not even for a moment did the family question what a coincidence it was that Daniel happened to be there that morning. They were just so relieved that he had been there for Gordon and carried him home before the tides came in and washed his body out to sea. They never imagined that Daniel had walked along the coastal path with Gordon that day. That just when they had turned the bend where the path was at it's thinnest and overlooked rock, rather than sand, Daniel had planted a kick right into the centre of the small boy's back with such force that he was pushed instantly from the cliff and into thin air. The boys arms had flapped like a birds as his mind, in frantic terror, tried to comprehend what was happening to his body. Daniel did not worship the Gods, but he didn't want to risk the vengeful mockery of a bored deity by being reckless in his own, less direct, descent.


584 Words

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