Prompt:
“She approached the unfamiliar door and nervously took the key from her pocket. She took a deep breath, unlocked the door, paused, then opened it. To her horror she saw…”
The child, their scrawny arms tight around the lifeless body of the old man. Woman? Being. Simyan.
The child looked up at her, eyes large and dark and dry. Their swollen face streaked with dirt and snot. Their breathing shallow, panicked, anxious.
Her heart tore at the pitiful sight and she steeled herself for what she was about to do.
She set her face and approached the child resolutely. They began to whimper, rocking back and forth as best they could with the weight of Simyan’s cadaver.
How could they know that this was not the end? She’d have to teach them.
She crouched before them and spoke in a low, steady tone.
“You have to let his sleeve go. He isn’t here anymore.”
They didn’t seem to understand her. Their keening got louder, their grip on Simyan, tighter, more desperate.
“He isn’t in there anymore.”
One by one, she loosened their fingers and Simyan’s form fell to the hard cement floor. He would have looked asleep, if his eyes were closed.
The child was crying now. Big, body-wrenching sobs, hot tears leaving clear paths down their face. They could barely look at her as their entire body shook. She held them, filthy as they were, for a long time.
When their breathing slowed to hiccups, she held them at arm’s length and stared into their sad eyes.
“It isn’t over. They didn’t win. Simyan had a plan and you are part of it. You will learn.”
She stood up, took one last look at her dead lover’s sleeve, and led the child out of the cell.
They had a long way to go.
***
This piece was in response to the first writing prompt from playwright Trace Crawford’s Complete Creative Writer course on Udemy.
I chose this course after listening to The Sum of Your Experience, written by Trace Crawford, and performed by the Petaluma Radio Players.
I was left horrified and exhilarated and inspired. I absolutely recommend you listen to it right now.
I am so fucking excited to be writing fiction again and it’s flowing.
I’m hopeful for my first novel!
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DeNiM Baobab 