It's whipgloss, ladies: the grasses steep-edged in the storm, dense with hornets trying to trick their way under the roots while the stains keep creeping out of my fist, moistening the knee of my pants, your pants, our pants leaving us stranded like creatures that gurgle under the waste as the mud hardens. Follow my finger up the canyon wall, past the Chevy wedged into its own ferocious orbit. It was that innocent, the ball of his thumb on the inside of her elbow, that long life-line that leaps the pulsing vein. Her lips pulled back over her gums as soon as she said yes.
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This is cool. I love that first long sentence; it sings!
This piece moves just right
Thanks, you guys!
The second whipgloss story in a row. Interesting to see the difference between this and Meg Pokrass' When A Person Is Missing.
You wrote it to the same prompt, or am I imagining things?
Exceptional vision and in so few words. Well wrought, Renner
Love the 'Chevy' line! Really enjoyed this, Cooper.
So much story. So few words. Fav.
this moves freely, breezily
"leaving us stranded like creatures that gurgle under the waste as the mud hardens"
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The image you've built here just takes my breath away. David is right, the first line is a beauty. Fave!
You folks are too kind. Thank you.
Yes, Berit, this is written from Meg's prompts. Most of these I've posted in Fictionaut are.
Such an evocative use of language - you do this so well!