Saturday, October 18, 2014

GNG Sept Exercise 2014. ReadGeorgiaNutts.com




 alFalaq 

(Disproportionately large, heavy, flared, exhausted, aged)

                Nessie was huddled between the roots of the Marbled Oak at the edge of the Talbert estate.   The great tree, disproportionately large even there among the outgrowth of the arboreal giants on the estate grounds dwarfed everything around it.  Like a bug, burrowing, she accepted the cold reassurance of the root branches, swollen and bulbous and smothering over her head. Her back arched and bent, seeking the smallest, farthest space down inside the folds of the hungry wood.  Fear pressed in on her, heavy and hazed, dark and swarming with small, greedy denizens now focused upon her, the newest prey within the food chain.  Steel she made of her shoulders, stone of her face, steadying herself enough  to remember it was all in her mind.  Everything on the estate was alive.  Alive and greedy; ravenous for the smell of something weak and ready to surrender.  A small wind rushed overhead somewhere in the boughs of the oak, nowhere near the ground, and the massive tree lurched and heaved, its flared leaves puling against an aching desire like the blind, mindless scrabbling of a starving man reaching for an imagined feast.  Every move of any tiny thing was enough to send spirals of quivering blood-lust out through all the fauna and flora of the grounds.  Nessie, exhausted, concealed herself tightly between the massive fibrous feet of the oak.  She breathed and did not bother to wipe her tears.  The aged tree, swaying back and forth rhythmically though now there was nary even a breeze, groaned as wood does, agonized by its many years and, unlike most wood in other places, by its drive to dine.  She imagined her blood shrinking within her, pooling in her center like a gemstone, becoming obscure and unnoticeable, but the shadow of night and the heartless, disconnected moon, warned she would not pass through until morning.

(My story was inspired by the two pictures below, which my nephew posted to his FaceBook page. They are of a fire that is only a few miles from the town where he and his family live. Game exercise words: Round Metallic Fast Fun)

The forest glowed like multivalued amber.  The pine and fir trees stood with their backs straight and firm against the forceful wind whistling and shrieking as it passed through.  The air was so hot it was breathless, consuming every bit of oxygen it could encircle.  Flames roared as they chewed up almost everything in their wake.  They jumped from tree to tree, racing fast down the round trunks to the bushes and ground below.  And fast as lightning they raced up and up and up, far into the sky, as though searching for some unfounded target; dancing fun-like along the tree tops.  The forest had become nothing more than a feeding ground for the ravenous, insatiable flames, which continued growing larger and larger until nothing more could be seen.  As quickly as they roared in, the flames swept their way through, leaving nothing but charred metallic looking skeletons standing in the ash-laden forest floor. 
(Here is my GNG exercise: Setting is a character. My setting is Time and my words were: fleeting, constricting, fulfilling, encompassing, freeing.)

Three hours, twenty-nine minutes and fifteen, sixteen, seventeen seconds...

Tina counted slowly and deliberately in between deep breaths in an attempt to regulate the palpitations of her heart. 

Forty-six, forty-seven, forty-eight seconds...

She was positive it hadn't actually been three hours, twenty-nine minutes and fifty-eight, fifty-nine...make that three and a half hours later. It was that truth that freed her from the constricting fear that would otherwise be all encompassing. The torment of understanding that she was trapped in a six by six metal cube suspended hundreds of feet off the ground encased in a concrete column and anchored by a pair of steel cables that weren't designed to...

"No," Tina said aloud, attempting to transform that thought. She needed to make it as frivolous and as fleeting as the amount of time that she had spent counting the moments of solitude that she had been granted in this unexpected delay to her residence. 

Three hours, thirty-one minutes and fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three seconds... 

She counts slowly and deliberately i n between deep breaths to keep the panic at bay. Help was on its way, she reminded herself. The thought fulfilled her, bathed her in hope. A hope she clung to as she counted...

Three hours, thirty-four minutes and seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty...