Weekly Writing Prompt #120
Near the river,
which was, back then,
the divide, or near enough,
the link between our lost past and
our uncertain future,
we listened to her,
teach us to go back in time,
and learn from our mistakes.
Image: Time Warp, by Craig Sunter, from Manchester, UK
In the dark corridor she could not see the enemy, only hear her breath: she would have to translate the faint sounds, guess at her position, the distance from her arm, the wrist that held the dagger. Her own move would decide, life or death, victory or defeat.
Image: Dark Corridor
For this week’s challenge, you must write a fifty-word story. Not five thousand, not five hundred, but precisely fifty words.
It looked familiar. That place I knew, without knowing its name. The river, the willow trees, the narrow path close to the water edge.
Then I heard your voice, and I walked in your direction. How quiet was the world, how fast my heart was beating. How dead we were.