tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post760436526709173630..comments2023-07-06T07:33:06.262-04:00Comments on * Writers' Spark * Every story has to start somewhere *: Prompt: This stone is mired in doubt Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-35281301063114714712013-12-13T22:04:35.581-05:002013-12-13T22:04:35.581-05:00Lovely and evocative. I like the idea of the narra...Lovely and evocative. I like the idea of the narrative vs the stone's doubt, with a great final line! Margaret S. McGrawhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18301618521427459626noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3022413452547277809.post-32058035357386175032013-12-13T19:29:54.096-05:002013-12-13T19:29:54.096-05:00Prompt: This stone is mired in doubt
Hands in t...Prompt: This stone is mired in doubt <br /><br /><br />Hands in the sand. One stone.<br /><br />The sand flows over the tips of my fingers, burying the fingernails. I make a fist.<br /><br />The doubt. The doubt is in the stone, not my hands. It is the stone that does not know will I lift it, will these sandy hands – now covered to their wrists – emerge from their burial to cup its round surface. Will it rise? Will it fly?<br /><br />Voices. Firelight in the distance.<br /><br />I am cold. Or will the stone be left to lie as has been, untouched, beside me? Opportunity lost.<br /><br />How hard need the blow be? Do the hands beside the stone have the strength? The stone does not know.<br /><br />I lift my hands, showering the stone with grains of sand, and clasp them about my scabbed knees. Tatters of the dress I had worn that last day of my other life flutter about me in a chill desert breeze. The desert at night is far colder than I had imagined.<br /><br />Horses whuffing. Clattering. A sound that might be one of the camels.<br /><br />The others are leaving. The stone does not know – I do not know – when more might come, when I might be beside its like again.<br /><br />_His_ voice. A farewell. A shadow, growing larger.<br /><br />I grasp the stone. Doubt is gone.<br /><br /><br />Time writing: 15 minutesAnnenoreply@blogger.com