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Friday, 27 February 2015

March of the Living

 
Genre: Fiction
Word Count : 97
Title: March of the Living
 
The sweet smells of sweat and vomit hit me in the back of the throat. Antiseptic stung my nasal passages. And above all, the metallic tang of blood. We could never quite scrub that away.
The nurses cleaned his wounds, clucking their tongues. The driver had not even stopped this time.
If we had stayed there, one of us would never have come out.
But I would not be the one to still his heart. Not with a weapon or a word. I could just as easily cut off my own hand. So we were walking again. 
 
 
The above is my entry for the Friday Flash Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The idea is to write 100 words maximum about a photo prompt.


10 comments:

  1. The first paragraph is just superb.You had me smelling and tasting with you. A hard thing to do make that decision but if he was still capable of walking you made the right one.

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    1. Thanks so much! I have had to make this decision in the past unfortunately! Obviously scarred me for life.

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  2. Replies
    1. Thanks for reading! Hard decision to make!

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  3. Beautifully written. That first paragraph really grabbed me. Clucking their tongues gives this an exotic kind of feel. Nice.

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    1. Thanks Amy, what a nice comment!

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  4. Dear Kim,

    Welcome to Friday Fictioneers. Great descriptions.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

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  5. Kim, I hope they find that driver one day. :( Great use of description and a bittersweet ending.

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