Senseless (Saturday Writing Essentials)

Filed in Gather Writing Essential by on May 25, 2011 0 Comments

Challenge: The challenge for this week will be to follow the prompt of words and write a story, or poem, or novella, or whatever you choose to write. BUT you must use the following as the opening of your writing:

The blood stained rag that hung over the window was a reminder to him that all things of this world did not make sense. In fact there were few things that ever did. He quickly wiped the dirt from his hands, put his shoes on and ….

  • There is a limit of three submissions from each member per day. If you’re extremely prolific, spread out your work and post only three submissions per day.
  • Post to Gather Writing Essential.
  • Tag your submission with SatWE.
  • Include (Saturday Writing Essential) as part of your title.
  • I ask that you make your submission(s) by next Friday afternoon.

Good Writing!

 

 

The blood stained rag that hung over the window was a reminder to him that all things of this world did not make sense. In fact there were few things that ever did. He quickly wiped the dirt from his hands, put his shoes on, and slipped into the waning night.

He journeyed for hours, taking a circuitous route through the woods that wrapped around the lake. Pine trees mingled with the blackness, growing in thick clusters, yet thinned out around the campsites.

He moved cautiously, distancing himself from the campground as the sky offered signs of daybreak. With one last look, he turned up a hiking path, journeying at a steady clip into the mountains  

As he ascended the trail, he wondered why it had to happen again. Hadn’t he been content, just minding himself in the cool water, when she drifted toward him with her wanton smile? Why did she have to linger for hours and then invite him for dinner…and her succulent dessert? Why did her husband have to be gone on a hunting trip?

The why’s accumulated in his mind, but bore no answer. He had no real motivation. Just a senseless hunger—an insatiable appetite that grew sharper with each incident.

He tightened the straps of his backpack and left his prints in the fresh dirt, feeling certain he had covered his tracks once again.

 

About the Author ()

I'm the author of Nothing but Trouble after Midnight.

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