Posted in #8Sunday, Blogfest Entries, Flash Fiction Pieces, Life Writing, Marketing my Writing, Parenting, Writing in Freedom, Writing Samples

Not Me: #WeWriWa #8Sunday

Welcome to Weekend Writing Warriors’ Eight Sentence Sunday!

It’s the weekly hop for everyone who loves to write! We’ve got a variety of genres and talented writers just waiting for you to come sample their wordy wares. Come read one, or all, or pick a few like leftover holiday memories….

And, if you’re inclined to share your own 8-10 sentence snippet, follow the link and sign up. It’s a great community to be a part of! =D

This week, I offer you the next ten sentences of “A Splash of Red”, a surreal fantasy story, the child of my own life and my dreams, with a generous dollop of imagery and a big dash of creative license…

More on the story after the snippet.

Context, such as it is…A woman is attempting to win the trust of a little girl in a red dress, while hawks wheel above…but just who are these two to one another?

When we left our woman and child last week, it was with the realization that they, joined as they are, are the rabbits the hawks are hunting as they circle menacingly above…

Given the surrealism of the story, punctuation is a bit creative, so be warned!

Not Me

They scream, together, with one cry, and our unity shatters. I keep my eyes forward; the child I was watches me, her eyes hawk-sharp but wet with fear-tears. She is a small wild thing in her own wilderness, who has learned not to trust those who are bigger, stronger, more powerful.

Not adults.

Not me.

The hawks scream again, the one sound splintering into two, two rages, two beaks, two sets of talons and strong beating wings. Hummingbird fast, she flees, into the bushes where I’m too big to go…desperate fear twists and clutches at my body, like rending hawks’ beaks, like talons puncturing, gripping, crushing acid-vomit up into the back of my throat –

I’m as a child again, knowing the stooping hawks will attack, that there is no refuge, no safe place – I want to hide, but muscles and mind will not obey. A whimper rises within me, limbs crying out to huddle, to fight, to flee, but they’ve chosen their prey well. Helpless, I only stand, rooted as a tree to this spot.

Previous “A Splash of Red” snippets:

(chronologically from beginning)


Will the woman be able to move?

Can she find the child again?

If she can, will she earn the little girl’s trust?

Will the hawks take her, instead?

Come on back next week to find out more!

Did you like what you read? “A Splash of Red” was originally published in the 2014 inaugural edition of World Unknown Review, which is edited by L.S. Engler. Since I retain all rights beyond first publication, I intend to revise the story and use it as my own initial self-publishing experiment.

That being said, I’d love any and all input and criticism you’re inclined to offer!

Want more #8Sunday?

Author:

I am myself. I own my life, and live with three other people who own theirs. My intention is to do only those things that bring me joy, and to give myself wholly to those things I do. Writing has been my passion throughout my life, and this will become the home for my writing life...because it brings me great joy!

13 thoughts on “Not Me: #WeWriWa #8Sunday

    1. Thank you, Amy. It’s gone through many revisions in the five years or so since I first had the dream (and the decades longer since I was a little girl in a red dress). The original version is scarcely recognizable in this end result (which I’ll be revising again in a month or two, so I guess it’s not so final).

      I love your descriptive words. Those are all things I aim for in my writing, so they mean more, maybe, than you know. =D

  1. So emotional! It definitely reads like something you’ve had some experience with, for good or ill. Getting a story out of any experience puts a positive light on it, I’d say.
    ~Marcia

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