Rachael Harrie at Rach Writes is hosting her final Crusader Challenge today. It's all about showing instead of telling. The rules are:
Show Not Tell Crusader Challenge: In 300 words or less, write a passage (it can be an excerpt from your WIP, flash fiction, a poem, or any other writing) that shows (rather than tells) the following:
- you're scared and hungry
- it's dusk
- you think someone is following you
- and just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: shimmer, saccadic (jerky movement, often associated with eyes), substance, and salt.
"S is for Showing Shadows"
Every muscle tensed in my crouched stance. Spoiled milk tainted the air, coating my tongue like a wool sweater. Brick rubbed against my back. A cramp clenched in my calf and I hissed.
Did he hear me?
No, he couldn't have.
The noise broke my frozen state with a saccadic movement. My mouth lost moisture while my heartbeat quickened.
The man shuffled and tossed the garbage bag into the dumpster.
The scent of grease and salt struck me as if it had substance. I tumbled backward. Saliva flooded my mouth and my stomach rumbled in protest. I recognized the smell.
A heavenly delight.
I staggered up while the door clicked shut. Shadows lengthened, reaching darkened fingers toward me, but I sprinted to the dumpster and leaned over the bin. My fingers dug into the slick bag, attempting to poke a hole in its flexible surface. A finger broke through and I yanked it open.
I snatched handfuls of half-eaten food and shoved them into my mouth. My eyes darted toward the door, the alley's entrance, the shadows, but my hands didn't stop until tears prickled my eyes. I coughed and collapsed.
My chest shuddered in staggering breaths. I clutched at my throat, tearing into the tender flesh. I wanted to scream, but couldn't.
I was choking.
No, not quite.
Footsteps slapped upon concrete. My heart throbbed under its frantic pace. Dirt poked under my bloody fingernails while I clawed to flee into the shadows. The man's low chuckling sliced through me and Death's clammy hand seized me.
My chest rose once.
"I told you not to come back."
A streetlight burst to life. Its shimmer didn't caress the dark as the shadows descended.
*If you like writing flash fiction or want to try your hand at it, don't forget about my Flash Fiction Blogfest on May 6th. For more information, click here.*