The Final Hurdle
Slowly pressured over time by former members of Ficly to return. Hi.
Cheer Captain of the High Seas in the League of Awesomeness.
“Our lives are not our own. From womb to tomb, we are bound to others. Past and present. And by each crime and every kindness, we birth our future.”
Ficly: http://ficly.com/authors/pjstories; http://ficly.com/authors/inkyblue;
Home was so close. Dahlia stumbled down the overgrown path. Lights from nearby houses dripped through the leaves of birch trees and cast eery shadows on the ground, scattered as it was with shards of glass and discarded fast food wrappers. She slurred the words to 24 Karat Magic and dragged a hand across her face. The hand, when she looked at it, had a near perfect make-up print of her face. It was kind of ugly.
She stopped, not entirely of her own accord, and looked up at the sky, then pointed at a star. She fell onto her back, which is where she saw the fence she was looking for about twenty metres back the way she came. It was painted black with a decal of white roses that were iridescent in the midnight moonlight.
A bit of glass slid into her calf as she crawled through the undergrowth but Dahlia didn't notice. She pulled herself up, grimacing in pain as she all but threw herself over the fence.
Then she remembered the fear and her heart rose.
"Oh gosh," she stammered. "Mom? Is that the time?"
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
I'm just as confused as her drunken brain, but your imagery here with details is delicious. I love the fence decal and the dangerous yard, but I wish i knew what 'time' it was supposed to be. :)
- #2178 Posted 3 years ago
Rather, I read that wrong, and I get that the 'time' probably means her mom is mad. oops, lol.
- #2179 Posted 3 years ago
Author's prompt text:
- Published 3 years ago.
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