I have so much to do over the next two weeks I didn’t think I’d get to the 3rd Challenge but then I got an idea and it wouldn’t leave me alone.
Here are the rules.
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.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: “synbatec,” “wastopaneer,” and “tacise.” (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them).
I chose Flash Fiction (bet you’re surprised there). Not entirely sure I got everything, but this is the story my brain wanted, so here it is. It’s exactly 300 words in Word.
Hoping I got the surprise in. Let me know what you think – I should warn that it’s probably not what you’re expecting… unless it is 😉 If you like it please vote for #18
Do Unto Others
Sunlight bleeds into the sky as the new day dawns. Crimson light bathes the world for a while, blending eerily with the lump at his feet. Drae kicks it behind him, relishing in the dull thud of his heel against flesh.
Eyes closed, he spreads his arms wide. Wind rushes through his hair as salt dances on his tongue. The moment is broken by a whiff of something spoiled as the fresh coppery tang leaves the body to make room for decay.
He laughs, always one step from hysteria. Adrenaline and danger of the unknown motivate him to take these assignments.
And, of course, there’s the money.
He crouches down to survey his handiwork. The pulpy mess of her face makes identification practically impossible. Crunching bone punctuates the rolling waves while he completes his work. He holds zip-lock bags full of teeth and fingertips up in front of the sun.
“Can’t forget the fingertips.” Drae tells the swarm of seagulls nearby.
He reaches for his masterpiece with a sigh. Rifling through pockets to make sure he’s covered his bases isn’t exciting, but it is necessary.
Only one piece of paper catches his eye. “Synbatec, tacise, wastopaneer.”
A shiver runs down his spine. Clouds rush in and the seagulls flee. Something crunches sickeningly behind him
As he turns, the sudden squelch of pulverized flesh against his lips makes him gag. He doubles over as his teeth extract themselves and falls to his knees.
The skin peels back from his lips and he raises his hands to stop it, only to watch his fingertips snap off.
Her body lies lifeless once more, like it never moved. Teeth and fingertips litter the bloody sand around her.
His awareness remains intact while his body deteriorates and the seagulls return to pick at his eyes.