Thank you to the reader who found my blog by searching, “evil freewriting exercises”! That really made me chortle (or in internet speak- LOL)! Well it is another Freewriting Friday and that means I have to print my attempt at last Friday’s challenge which was:
“Google Image Search the word, ‘resplendent’ and choose the image you like best and then ‘voracious’ and your favorite for that word and write a story involving the two images. Try not to use the two words in the story.”
He dropped bottom upon a stump and rubbed his aching right leg. He hoped his slight limp didn’t pull him in circles. It was a lot further than he remembered it but the dense woods were every bit as green and as lush as his thirty-years of daydreams.
Silky white hammocks swept from treetop to treetop. Devouring little mandibles tearing away at the deciduous forest temple that he once worshiped in so willing with a notebook and magnifying glass. With a pencil he sketched for a moment the place that he stopped to rest. He pulled a fallen leaf from the floor and pressed it between two pages of his journal. He had no intention of forgetting this trip.
The pitter-pat of a thousand raindrops was actually nothing of the sort. The colonies of caterpillars would consume so much that they would consistently and constantly send a storm of wet pellets down below them. It was an auditory illusion that made it sound like rain. If he listened close he knew he could hear their tiny mouths tearing away at the dense walls of forest even as they decorated it for the coming fall with webs that resembled so much the ones store-keepers would stretch across their display windows to amuse the little trick or treaters back in town.
It seemed like such a shorter walk for a younger man. His old legs burned and his hands were shaky with both anticipation and age. He listened intently for every little clue that he might be getting closer. He scanned the trees and the shadowed forest floor. He searched his memories for tell-tale signs that he was on the right path. The blood flowed and pounded in his ears. He had waited so long.
That concrete cell had been nothing like this. After enough years, a man might start to call a prison cell home. He became adjusted to the simplicity of the space and the routine of the life. Never to have to make a single choice for himself became a crutch. He started to wonder if the world outside the tall razor-wired walls was even real. He had become comfortable with his picture postcards of the green forest and the tiny town he lived in. He started to prefer the scribbled letters of his cousin, Jane to any hopes of returning.
Yet here he was again. Not as young as he might have hoped and wouldn’t he have preferred spring to the very close of summer. The walk was really wearing on his tired legs. Maybe he should have spent more time in the yard and less time staring at picture postcards and rereading the same wrinkled pages of his notebooks.
He didn’t feel cheated. It was justice enough for what he had done. Most believed it was an accident and he had almost convinced himself of that at first. A man with time to think though can discover the difference between an accident and a mistake. It was no accident. It was definitely a mistake.
Like these damned caterpillars and their constant consumption of everything around them, that had been the young man that he was. Now he was more like these tall trees taking what time dishes to them but standing just as tall. He didn’t drop his head as thought about what had kept him out of these woods so long. He had given it enough thought to know he was sorry but he was not ashamed.
The webs grew thicker until he felt like he was under a giant tent like one of those revival tents that traveling preachers used to throw up in town when he was maybe ten. He spoke out loud a few times to measure his echoes. He called out, “Well what do you know?” and “How much further you think?” to no one but himself and maybe all of these thousands of webworms.
It wasn’t yet but thirty feet and he saw the break in the trees that he was waiting for. He stumbled and fell to his knees in a pile of dead leaves. A burning pain went through his right knee and shot up his leg. Even then he pulled himself back up and broke into a shambling jog. Each step was like throwing lighter fluid on a grill fire and the pain shot up his leg. His eyes were watering but broke into a smile to match the one on his dried lips.
Then there it was. Finally!
You know the grace needed with a “Freewriting Friday” as there are destined to be more than a share of poor word choices and grammar and spelling errors. I did my best with the challenge and want to see yours now!
Comment here with a link back to your own Freewriting Friday!
Next week’s prompt is…write about:
“Something Completely Unexpected That Happened to Her”
- Freewrite, Pt. 1 (amienickel.wordpress.com)
- Some crappy freewriting (litendeavor.wordpress.com)
- Freewriting Friday (verynovel.wordpress.com)