My Show Not Tell Crusader Challenge Entry

The last Crusader challenge has fallen upon us and here it is:

Show Not Tell Crusader Challenge: In 300 words or less, write a passage (it can be an excerpt from your WIP, flash fiction, a poem, or any other writing) that shows (rather than tells) the following:

• you’re scared and hungry
• it’s dusk
• you think someone is following you
• and just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: shimmer, saccadic, substance, and salt.

Here is my entry:

Her eyes grew wide, her face hot, her heart pounding. A growl roared from her stomach. Shut up, shut up. She darted forward and stepped ever so carefully on the cracked floor. Reaching an icy brick wall, she placed her cheek next to it letting the cold sink in before licking. She cringed at the saltiness and wiped the disgusting taste from her tongue.

A boom shook the place; the vibrations ran through her body like a subwoofer. Did somebody push over a dumpster? She spun around, her foot caught. She pulled on her ankle. Rubber soles slapped the floor. She yanked it out and ran.

“Who’s there?” she screeched.

The hairs on her forearms stood up as the edge of the doorway made its way under her fingertips. She reached down. A cold, metal knob saluted her. She twisted. The door flew open. Darkness dripped from the hallway. She sprinted down the corridor; her hands shaking, her eyes saccadic. She grabbed her chest and felt around the pockets of her pants. Her inhaler was gone. There was a wheeze, a misstep, a fall. Get up dammit!

A light shimmered in the shadows. She used her last bit of energy to pounce like a panther and push.

It was dusk, but the streetlamps illuminated the downtown sky. A congested sidewalk filled with laughing tourists passed. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she rushed across the street, bumping into people along the way.

“Watch where you’re going moron.”

A smile crawled on her face. She was alive and still in Chicago. She took a deep breath. It smelled like rain on top of hot concrete.

It was the substance crazy dreams were made of.

***

The end for now.  To learn more about the Crusade, please visit: Rach Writes.

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