Thursday, November 13, 2014

A Memory of White

I'm participating in flash scenes with MJ Bush. The scene below was written in response to her image prompt here.

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Naked, they had said. She must run naked across the frozen waterfall. If she stopped they would let her freeze. If she made it across they would set her free.

She stood before the crowd, trembling, and then quickly took off her clothing and folded each piece before laying it at her feet. When all that was left were her shoes and socks, she stopped and looked up at the leader. Staring into the cold blue eyes she knew she would not be allowed to keep even these.

“As soon as I take them off, I can run?”

The one before her barely nodded. Their twin breaths clouded the silence between them.

She was trembling but purposely took one last look at each person, committing to memory every detail and distinction that was visible. The flecks of gray or yellow in an otherwise blue or green iris. Thin and thick eyelashes. Heights and weights and shoe sizes. Rings on fingers and bitten nails. Everything.

She took a deep breath and leaned down, quickly untying each lace and kicking off her shoes. Even before her last sock reached the ground she was running. Running fast and running away from the whiteness that chilled their humanity, towards a whiteness that registered her last footprint.

Her nakedness didn’t matter. The cold didn’t matter. She simply set her eyes on the horizon and flew towards freedom.

<word count: 233>

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