Warmup Wednesday!

Directions: Write a scene or an entire story of 100 words on the nose (no more, no fewer), inspired by this photograph. No judging. All fun. (Normal Flash! Friday guidelines regarding content apply.)
Don’t forget to add your Twitter handle & link to your blog, if you please.

And a few words on how your week’s going would be lovely!

 This week’s Warmup Wednesday challenge: In honor of our friends in Nepal, include a rescue of some kind.

A boatman (माझी दाई) with his boat. (Phewa lake, Pokhara, Nepal). CC2.0 photo by Dhilung Kirat.

A boatman with his boat. (Phewa Lake, Pokhara, Nepal). CC2.0 photo by Dhilung Kirat.

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26 thoughts on “Warmup Wednesday!

  1. Eternal Peace
    (100 words)

    The water is so cold, it hurts to breath. I would pull my body up onto a rock and warm it with the last rays of sun, but it’s too broken to move. Deeper I sink, the water coddling me in an icy embrace.

    I think of those I will leave behind. I shed a tear for the memories we’ll never create. I silently whimper the words I should have left them with. I don’t want to go.

    As the last breath leaves my body, he reaches out to save me.

    His strong grip takes me to an eternal peace.

    • “I shed a tear for the memories we’ll never create…” so sad…. glad there was hope at the end 🙂

  2. So far my week is going well. However as I type this I realize that I’ve used “piece” in the title when it should have been “peace.” Oh well, if that’s all that’s going to go awry this week, I’ll take it. Shoot, I probably just jinxed myself. I’m going to shut up now!!

  3. He stood at the bow of his life, trying to see the future; a future that would not resolve. Slowly, he realized that his lifeboat floated on an ocean in a flat earth reality. He could see no horizon, but he could hear the water roiling as it plunged over the edge into what he imagined was a limitless void. So, this is my future, he thought. His initial panic subsided and he shrugged, resolved to live each day until the edge came, savoring the heft of the hull, the loll of the sea, the cry of the sea gulls.

  4. Reblogged this on DJ's Reflections in a Crazed Mirror and commented:
    Neat Wednesday Warmup 100 word challenge at Flash Friday. Here’s my submission:

    EDGE

    He stood at the bow of his life, trying to see the future; a future that would not resolve. Slowly, he realized that his lifeboat floated on an ocean in a flat earth reality. He could see no horizon, but he could hear the water roiling as it plunged over the edge into what he imagined was a limitless void. So, this is my future, he thought. His initial panic subsided and he shrugged, resolved to live each day until the edge came, savoring the heft of the hull, the loll of the sea, the cry of the sea gulls.

  5. @dizzy_diaries

    Still waters run deep. Isn’t that what they say? You can never tell what is going on beneath the surface of a calm body. No. It takes ripples, waves, splashes and screams before anyone will bat an eye. But it’s the quiet, lapping waters you should watch out for. It’s the mesmerizing pools that will grab hold of you.

    Beneath their beautiful serene surfaces hide terrifying drop offs, rocky beds and cold, deep depths that no one can reach. Should you stumble into the depths of one of these pools, beware of the powerful current. You will get swept away.

    Ummm… I guess things are going ok. Fond out I have to have yet another test done for my heart (nuclear stress test) so I guess that kind of sucks but it’s really just par for the course around here. LOL

  6. When I was born my mother didn’t want me
    tossed me aside like rotten debris
    They tried again, gave it another go
    but she had me by the scruff of the neck
    swinging me to and fro
    They found me a foster mum
    I was put in a basket with a cat called Misty
    She’d just lost her kitten
    but with me she was smitten
    She cocooned me in her fur
    and sighed a contented purr
    as I suckled ’til wanted no more
    From then on we were inseparable
    Everyone found us adorable
    I was a little ball of fluff
    who liked to say ‘woof’
    She’d often give me a cuff
    but never too rough
    they came up with a name for me
    what else could it be but Lucky
    A house is a place to keep stuff
    It becomes a home when filled with love

    I’m home

  7. He chases the sun.
    The light breeze drifts along his skin, not another person in sight.
    The sun is his alone.
    It breaks through the horizon, casting an orange glow over the mountains.
    He greets the morning.
    Out on the water, the sounds of his waking town hum in the distance.
    Solitude brings peace.
    Here he can forget the words of his employer, the crying of his child.
    Only he and the sun exist.
    The bells ring, the time to return is near, and he closes his eye to hold on to the moment.
    He savors it until tomorrow’s sun.

  8. There’s the boy, on his withered wooden ship, catching dead fish for the beggar children in the slums. Some say he was once one of those children, starving on the streets, with their filthy faces planted on the dirt road, begging on their skinned knees. But he found hope. Like the sun, he rises every dawn and hunts down the ominous dark with his illuminating smile. The people call him a peasant, a swine, but the children call him a hero, because without the filthy boy, there would be no children, and without the children, there would be no boy.

  9. “Hurry, Man, we’re fighting daylight,” he said, cradling his camera across his chest as the single-prop skimmed the settling surface.
    The tsunami’s waves had receded; the ocean had again righted itself. Several noteworthy surfers had been out in the line-up when the waves came. This is the story that would generate clicks. The sheer numbers? An abstraction to glance at: “Oh, how horrible.”
    On to the sports or the local weather.
    But a name, an icon, a face—this was a tragedy worth reading about.
    This would generate the dollars, the euros, the yen.
    “Right there. Circle around.”
    Click. Click.

  10. Rescue: Refused…
    We’ve been waiting for so long the others have abandoned him. The monstrosity holds him tight and is slowly pulling him under the splashing waves. I have the equipment to save him. I’ve offered it regularly- even chucked it at him out of frustration. But he always refuses, loudly declaring his well-being. That the sulfurous tentacles encircling his neck are my figments and the well-honed claws asserting their authority are nonexistent.

    Salty rivers blind me while I throw the lifeline again. I’m pacing my lifeboat; his only hope for rescue. His only hope, but worthless if he won’t accept it.

    ***
    Several of my students are Nepali. A few of them are still waiting to hear from family. I can’t even imagine- and they still have such a good attitude while we do yet some more state testing. They are my heroes.

    While reading the news, I was struck by the fact that Nepal initially refused Taiwan’s offer for assistance. I spent some time trying to figure out why you would do that…but I realized that it happens more than we might realize. This response was inspired by one of those examples in my own life.

    • Amberlee, a touching piece in the face of mind-baffling behavior. My sympathies for your students and prayers that their families are safe.

    • Oh Dragonness? May I have “inserting” switched to “asserting”? I chose the word purposefully, but in my editing, I took out the phrases that would have made the word make sense…

  11. The Drowning Pool
    (100 Words)

    Tonna Wu couldn’t save them all.

    Sneaking in quickly after the splash, he bundled the latest one in warm blankets and rushed with her to the missionary.

    How many baby girls, tossed aside to make way for a hoped-for-son one day, had he rescued from beneath the mercurial waters grip?

    Tonna tapped the signal on the worn wooden door. Once he’d been assured of the little’s ones safety, he returned to wait, silent and unobserved on his nightly vigil among the reeds.

    Even though he risked his life, Tonna couldn’t stop. He knew he hadn’t been his parent’s first pregnancy.

    • Having an interesting week, coping with Flash Fiction rejection while writing a 1,200 word piece in two days ’cause I just found out about it yesterday and the deadline for submission is tomorrow.

  12. Emily Clayton
    @emilyiswriting

    The Murky Depths are Calling

    What’s it like to drown? Perhaps you fade peacefully, slipping into shadowy depths. Maybe it’s a painful struggle to declare a victor. Regret or acceptance. Which do you feel most?

    I slowly make my way into the murky water. Cooling sensations tickle my feet, my thighs, caress my scarred belly. I’m up to my neck now. I glance around, etching tumbling hills upon my memory. Will those last, where I’m going? A final breath. A final moment alive.

    “You there!” A frantic scream. “Come help, there’s been a fire!”

    I lift my head, silently relieved at my latest failed attempt.

  13. Fish Tales

    “We have to rescue him!”
    “Muriel, are you sure you aren’t imagining things? Last week you swore you saw the Loch Ness monsters cousin. I think you might have eaten some bad clams…”

    Muriel huffed, a cloud of bubbles escaping her mouth, “Just because you don’t believe in humans doesn’t mean they don’t exist. I swear he was right here, peering down, begging to be saved.”
    “You aren’t thinking straight. How would he even breath up there without water?”
    “Maybe he has a bucket?”
    “Sure, that must be it. I think you’ve been swimming too close to the Jellyfish again.”

    100 words
    @todayschapter
    #flashdog

    Been a busy week already, had a day trip to Toronto yesterday and the kitchen reno is still in full swing so we have been making a lot of impromptu visits to the inlaws right around dinner time…

    Working on my stories for the Flashdogs anthology. It’s been a while since I have written something longer than 210 words so it is taking a bit of getting used to 🙂

  14. Shretha’s Legacy
    It had been a weird day on the lake. His skin was like shrink-wrap tightening around his body. The air was oppressive. No bird. No fish. A terrifying silence.
    Shrestha pondered his place in the world; his only child, Lalita, his beautiful princess; and the children she would have. They would be his legacy.
    His wife, Anu, awaited him on shore, quaking. Strange.
    “Lalita is gone. Earthquake.”
    Whispers of tangible love lost. No more the lovely face between the palms of his hands.
    Screams of foreshortened eternity. He could not achieve his life’s true goal – a revered status: Honoured Grandfather.

    (100 words not including title)

    *****
    Wasn’t going to post this week but the story kept me awake last night!

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