danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story -  Day 32

Image prompt:

She bent over forward and pocked her tongue at me from her between her legs and little upside down head. She shouted peek-a-boo and ran behind the coach. I made a show of dropping my bowl of cereal down on the table slowly and staring at her with a look of mock insult. I doped my draw and said “Hwwoah” and then I scrunched my face up in slow motion. She giggled at me and came out of her hiding space. She waddled up to me but I put my head in my hands and pretend to cry. She wasn’t sure now so she wandered over more and asked. “Daddy?” And I flung up my hands and yelled like a monster “Wrrroooooaaah” and she pretended to scream but she wasn’t as good at pretending yet so she giggled again and ran away. I stomped my feet and beat my chest and came lumbering after her taking huge steps five times her own waddling skitter. I loved being a father, I wouldn’t trade it for any amount of money or the perfect job or anything else.

The phone rang and I lumbered back out of the hallway and morphed back into Dad. She came running up behind me and pounced on my legged, I roared and gently shock my leg as if she had really caught me. As the phone rang a second time I lumbered faster bringer her with me.

I picked up the phone and said “HHEEEELLLLOOO” and then after being embarrassed, I answered again in a civilized voice. I didn’t say anything after that. I let them explain. There was an accident. They were on their way to the hospital, they couldn't tell me if they were okay. They couldn't tell me if they were alive. I don’t remember putting the phone down. I remember crouching down on my kitchen floor and crying. My head in my hands. And my daughter tapping me on the shoulder and asking “Daddy?”

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story -  Day 31

Image prompt:

I’d pass them every day while I was jogging. They sat on the bench in the park eating sandwiches. Alright, I thought that’s sweat maybe someday I’ll meet someone like that, a nice girl that I can spend the rest of my life with and grow old sitting on a bench of our own. Those days were nice and I’d come home feeling happy and sometimes I’d do a second lap I felt so good and to see if they were still there. The first day after me and my partner had a big fight I stormed out of the house and started running, hoping it would calm me down. My pupping blood was now put to use and my head cleared. Even though it was late they were there again. Odd, I thought don’t old people go to bed before it gets dark, have they been there the whole time for hours. I got home even later and apologised but we still broke up a couple of weeks later. I was running to think about something else I pushed off the ground harder, digging my toes into the vinyl of my sneakers, it turns out it’s a great way to go a little faster and also to get a cramp in your leg. I hobbled to a stop and sat down on the grass nursing my calf. They were sitting there again and I hated them, why were they so happy. How could I find someone? Do people just not love each other like that any more. I turned around and limped home and felt guilty. I didn’t say it there face and I didn’t even know them but I felt childish and petty. In the summer I noticed that the old man was sitting by himself and I plucked up the courage to introduce myself and ask where his wife was. He told me she was, in fact, his sister and she was suffering from a brain tumour which had killed her. She used to get scared and violent and she found that coming to the park calmed her down. The next day he was still there and I brought him a sandwich. Sat with him and told him how the sight of them helped me apologise to my partner and I thought that he was inspirational. He didn’t say much and I don’t think he accepted the compliment but he smiled and he waves to me from the bench when I run past each morning.

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story -  Day 30

Image prompt:

Alone tall clock standing against a bare white wall ticked and tocked in the room. Two gentlemen sat behind there desks pushed together silently working away.

One man was short and round-bellied, with a red face and deep lines under his eyes. His head was bald on the top with grey hair above his ears which I think used to be brown or perhaps ginger.

Both men were cleanly shaven though you could tell they had lost the dexterity to do a completely clean job of it. The shorter man took pride in his dress, his trousers were neatly pressed every day with a solid seem running down the side along with his bend legs under his wooden desk. The desk was bare wood unvarnished just the way he licked it.

But right up against its side was the other man's desk. The other man's desk was taller for The other man was taller, maybe just under the height of my ear, for they were still quite short. The taller man's desk was black and vanished from top to toe. The shorter man thought this was showy but the taller man thought his black suit was showy too. Neither of them new that the other man thought this because neither of the men spoke to each other.

The taller man was not yet bald but would be any day, his head had been blank at one stage, I could tell but now it was wispy and white and combed over his shiny spotted head. The taller man worked hard at his desk and was certain the shorter man thought so too. He didn’t but the shorter man new that the taller man new he worked harder than him thought the shorter man was certain he didn’t. Till this day I couldn't tell you what each man did at his desk. Only that he was immensely proud that he did it.

The shorter man's desk had loose paper over every inch till you couldn't see the bare wood that he was proud of. We I asked why he thought this he told the smell of the bare wood reminded him of his childhood and he licked people to think he was humble And chiefly because his papers would not slide around like if he had a vanished desk like the taller. Who he called tall but I didn’t. The Taller man...

Title: Two men

by danieljoelbaty

This voice was really fun to run with.

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 29

Image prompt:

“I watched her tend the garden for 34 years, that tree, there, with the lotus blossoms we got that from her father for our engagement party. She loved working with her hands in the soil, soaking in the smell of it and the texture and all the...life. She always talked about...life, so much.”

“Pretty soon. That blossoming tree was taller than her, she’d get me to come and trim the top branches. I think I must have done that three times in 34 years. Then I just bought her a steep ladder, surprised she never fell off of it and broke herself.”

“When we were married for 5 years she seeded all those rows of vegetables; potatoes and tomatoes and lettuce. And she planted that pear tree. That must be the filth one. I never thought she’d get the damn thing to grow but eventually...’the ph of the soil’ she told me, that’s all she needed the right...ph.”

“Those bushels of wildflowers that would always grow out into my lawn, the ones right between you and your brother's trees; we must have fought over that dozens of times. Never was the problem, just something we could yell about when we mad about other things, money or making decisions without her. Arrrh.”

“I never liked getting my hands dirty, always made her leave all her garden clothes, her overalls and boots out in the sheet with all her spades and paraphernalia. I spend a lot of days watching her come and tend these plants after a fight or when she was happy but just needed to talk to the flowers. She always used to say that flowers were better than people, better listeners, better behaved even those wildflowers that never stopped growing. I guess I’m gonna have to pull them up myself sooner or later but... I don’t think I can just yet.”

“I wish I spend more time out here. I wish I spend more time with your mother.”

Title: A life shared, a love lost

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 28

Image prompt:

He marched me outside, behind the red bins at the back and scolded my lack of a work ethic, I played along, looking sincere and nodding my head, pretending to look ashamed or disappointed, I find looking like you have a stomach ache works well, just remember to not get too into it, don’t start clutching your belly or anything. He finished up with my list of daily responsibilities that sounded like extra add-ons considering my title is grill-men. I seem to find myself away from it a lot. He wiped the spittle from his beard witch told me he was aware of it, so I was allowed to wipe my face, he has a sort off projectile way of berating you. He grabbed the firehouse from the wall and uncoiled it, throwing it in my general direction and then he walked back inside, tossed me a scrubbing brush and told me to wet-sweep the concrete. Why, I thought, because the garbage truck will be offended that his trash ground is dirty. I actually held the brush with two hands this time and did my best, which was a pretty average job but before I could finish he chucked me a spray bottle and told me I could scrub the graffiti off the waste paper bin as well. I allowed myself to groan out loud at that one, now it did seem like he was mad. I was always told off because I didn’t do my normal jobs but this was new. That was a mistake he said after that I could go round the edge carpark and sweep up the dead leaves from the cutters. That’s absolutely ridiculous and I almost said that out loud but I’m mature so I held it in, said “Yes Pa”, in a sarcastic farmboy accent and then swept all the leaves together under his company car.

Title: growing-up, first jobs

by danieljoelbaty

not really that pleased with this one, the character has a real whiny tone but maybe it comes off authentic; you go with the characters the appear.

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 27

Image prompt:

I made a bee-line towards the constant droning hum, sorry, bee-keeper puns. My wife thinks this is just another ‘Mid-life crisis’ and a dangerous ‘waste of money’ come on. I was always interested in insects as a kid and bees were my favourites. So what if I’m trying to excite my childhood mind. My mum used to take me to the museum to look at all the different species of moths, crickets, and bees. Sometimes the zoo had them too but mostly they just had a couple of tarantula tanks. Uuurh I hate spiders. Then one day for school we went on a field trip to a country farm and they had these big boxes just towering next to each other on the grass and the sound they made was so frightening and exciting, a constant buzz, there must have been millions of bees I had thought. Now I’ve got my own buzzing tower of honey production, I made it myself from these instructions I found online and bought a protective suit second-hand. We’ll have our first jar of free honey in no time, course, I can’t eat honey except for maybe a spoonful in my tea from time to time, I have to regulate my sugar intake But we could sell them to the neighbours and clean up. My wife thinks it’s a stupid idea and I’ll probably get stung, I don’t care that’s all part of the enjoyment, the imminent danger; a thousand tiny venomous stingers all ready to defend their prize as soon as you slip up or forget to refill the smoke sprayer as my wife predicts. Hey, it’s not like I’ve bought a sports car and leather clothes or started taking flying lessons, though I always thought I’d be a pilot when I was a teenager, hmmm...

Title: Mid-life Crisis

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story -  Day 26

Image prompt:

He was sitting at his desk, paper and books and posters and worksheets all around him. In the middle neatly orders a blank piece of paper with the exception of two words ‘What’ and ‘next’ trailing behind a sad little question mark off to the side. He was writing down possible ideas for what he wanted to pursue after college. He’d taken a range of nowhere subjects from philosophy and art history a couple of languages and one semester of sociology. He had enjoyed these subjects but maybe he thought, because there was no consequence in taking or failing them, it didn’t mark him down for any one career path. He tapped his pen on the page for ten minutes creating a blue stared sky for the question mark to gaze up at before stamping a large supernova through the first five pages and returning to the list. He had really enjoyed art as a kid and he looked all the animal and robot and pirate and alien pictures he had saved and traced on the walls. Maybe he could do something like that, like game art or graphical design, he was fascinated by this one picture of an animal he drew that hung right above the desk, he could tell what it was maybe a horse or a dragon, dragons were fun to draw because they could look like anything really just make a general shape with legs the give it wings and draw fire out of its mouth, he’s dawn this one in his last year or primary school before high school, it was alright it had a definite shape and he’d tried to do some shading on it which turned out okay. Come to think of it he was sure that that was the most recent drawing he’d put on the walls, he couldn’t think of any he ‘d done in high school. He guessed he sort of gave up on drawing for a bit. He punched another celestial body into the paper, this was more like a black hole, with the top pages falling into a blue pit going nowhere.

Title: The List

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 25

Image prompt:

We beached our long canoe on the gravel sand. Tossing the oars in we set to the final task of getting it up and over the high water line. The front boy set one foot on to the grass line and let go, the domino-ing weight continued down the line and we all quickly followed suit and I dropped the stern on my foot. Everyone had had enough and before long fatigue-fuelled, abrasive words were carelessly flung every-which-way as everyone else was certain that no one but themselves was pulling their weight. These boys were tough and even tougher friends but when they got tired there wasn’t any stopping them. I’d had enough and I began to shut them up but was quickly interrupted and ignored. I may be there unofficial couch but I’m not the biggest and I’m only a couple of years older than them. So when they want to let rip there’s not much I can do to stop them.  I had a hard enough time keeping my own lid on. Truthfully I was beyond pissed-off and I was ready to go home and have dinner. These boys didn’t even look like they knew each other out on the water let alone that they had the closest friendships I know. Something was up but they would have to sort it out by themselves cos I was beat.

Title: Everyone carries the waka together

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 24

“Image” prompt?:

The firelight danced in the wind and the smoke was lost in the night sky, the orange glow of the fire wisps buzzing around the invisible plum, scattering widely and disappearing into the darkness. The Ocean lapping at my feet inviting me in for a late dip, luring me in but I’m content enough to wait and let it stroke my naked feet, settling into the warm sand by the light of my fire. My belly is not full but not empty either and I’m happy with that. The wind changes and the previously disguised smoke wafts into my eyes and up my nostrils and the wind shakes the flame with violent pulsing roars, the fire whips fleeing for cover. The sand seems cold and irritating, the wind chucks up my hair into my resting face and disturbs my musings. My back aches after chopping wood and climbing trees for food and then the ocean presented me with plentiful fish and I collected many, straining my arms and my back and cutting my fingers on the net. I’ll eat enough for a week but I’ll smell and the grime of the sea salt air will linger around me. The wind dies down again and the sand under my shoulders warms again. The fire wisps dance happily around the pillar of smoke again and the sea laps at my feet.

Title: smelly and content (because I like giving profound stories slightly silly names)

by danieljoelbaty

Interesting thing for a random-image-prompt site to give me.

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 23

Image prompt:

The mud squelched under the tires as we pulled in, this was probably the worst weather we could have hoped for to go to the beach, I remember being really disappointed, The sky was so clear and sunny before we left. Dad reckoned we’d just wait it out for a bit but the rain got heavier along the way. At least the summer heat meant that the rain wasn’t too cold. A couple minutes past and we were getting restless in the back of the car, I was really hungry and I think my little sister was sulking because she was supposed to go swimming in the ocean for the first time or something. Mum suggested we all hop in the boot and turn the salad into sandwiches with the bread we were going to feed the ducks with, the sausages would have to wait till we could use the grill when the rain stopped. It was really fun, we unhooked our seatbelts and all stood with one foot out the door, then dad said “3...2...1...Go” and we all darted out the car and screamed as our clothes got pelted, Mum went to open the boot but dad had forgotten to pop it so we had to wait in the rain like ten seconds more for him to run back, then we flung open the boot and jumped in, lucky the car is pretty tall me and Sis could sit up cross-legged comfortably while mums hair was brushing the ceiling and dad had to slump down taking up most of the open space. We churned through lunch and a bottle of fizzy but the rain still hadn’t stopped so I climbed over the back seat and got some cards from the glove box. We played last-card and go-fish and then when we’d had enough of that dad taught us how to play sevens and rummy and we joked around a lot, especially when dad kept hitting his head on the light. It got dark eventually and then we went home. That was my favourite beach picnic.

Title: The best times are with family

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 22

Image prompt:

She was cherry red with a little 2 cylinder engine chrome bars and plastic, off-white, leather handles. She was absolutely useless at going up hills and couldn’t break to save my life but she was mine. At a mind-bending 35mph, I drove her away from home down the country roads through the next six or seven small towns till I ran out of gas. Then I filled her up and kept on going, the seat was worn to pieces and comprised mostly of duct tape, I had replaced the kickstand with a metal t-square a while ago and I was followed by a fluffy trail of steamy smoke as she groaned ‘round the bends but that little bike was my taste of freedom. Course my girlfriend thought it was a pile of junk and when I was more stubborn we’d arrive to the movies or where ever at separate times, she didn’t wait in the rain for me to long, So I had to takes cabs for a while but I still rode my cherry red into work in the week. Of course, my parents said it was a death trap and I couldn’t get insurance because it had so many problems before the end but I didn’t care I’d max her out on the windiest back road, I knew how to handle her. Of course, I started wearing a helmet after the first time I flipped her but then we had stitches and a patch job to match.

Title: One Man’s Treasure

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 21

Image prompt:

Hey Mum and Dad, miss you lots

It’s so hot here I had to buy a completely new wardrobe just for the three weeks I’ll be staying here. How’s it at home is it snowing yet? The plane ride was awful, it was boiling and I was really tired but you know how I can’t get a good rest on an air-plane, when we finally arrived over palm springs we had to circle around three times before we could land at the airport, I have no idea why. I was so beat I went straight to Jane's house. She was so excited to meet me and start our holiday, I felt bad but had to try and sleep. But it was the middle of the day and the bed was too warm so she stayed with me and we watched a bunch of old movies. Anyway love you guys lots be home before you know it.

Love Sara

Hey Jeremy.

Oh my goodness it’s fucking boiling over here. I hate it. Anything to get away from home though. When are you coming over again I miss you. The flight was awful I didn’t get any sleep. Once we landed and I could finally have a smoke I felt a little better. I’ll let you know the hotel we’ll stay at as soon as I shake off the old hag my parents have me staying with, mums old co-worker or something, she smells like dental floss and wouldn't shut up as soon as I walked in the door. I just wanted to sleep but I couldn’t for her constant clomping limb and that stupid stroller of hers I almost managed to kick it over a couple of times but she’s got a vice grip you wouldn't believe. Anyway, I’ll slip the hag something late tomorrow and see you at that cute club on the corner round midnight. See you there.

Sara xxx

Title: A Postcard and a text

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story -  Day 20

Image prompt:

The boy slumped onto a wicker basket filled with half-priced pears, He immediately cringed at how silly it was, if any of them split they’d come out of his pocket money and he’d be eating pears for breakfast lunch and dinner and he hated pears, maybe he’d rummage through the basket later and feed any damaged ones to a dog, in any case, he wasn’t getting up now, he’d been up since early morning before the street lamps had turned off bringing out the fresh fruit and veg setting them up all nice and pretty, ‘freckled sides down’ or ‘reddest side of the apple smiling at the customer’ he heard his uncle say in his head. He didn’t really mind working for his uncle, he was a nice man really,  though he’d get every penny from you if you let him; the boy had already decided he’d sell the place if ever his uncle left it to him, or turn it into a...well something much cooler anyhow, I’m sure. ‘Oi off them pears!’ his uncle towered over him. The boy shot up and hastily moulded the squashed wicker back to its original shape with his hands “Sorry Uncle, I’s just ave’n a quick lie down”.

Title: Squashed Pears

by danieljoelbaty

Sometimes your first lines lead to something, other times not so much.

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 19

Image prompt:

My Grandfather picked me up under the armpits and dropped me on his bonny knee, reached past me with one arm and picked up an old plain shoebox with the other.

Inside was old envelops carefully opened and seal replaced, some strange nicknack's that I didn’t recognise and a small biscuit-tin case. His long fingers wrapped round the bottom of the tin and he popped off the lid in one hand.

He started pulling out old photographs. When I reached for one he said I wasn’t allowed to touch them because they were very old and fragile and children’s fingers were always sticky. I took my fingers out of my mouth and whipped them on my trousers. And he smiled at me. He sorted through them quickly, there were class photos from his boarding school and his university and photos of him in uniform and with medals. He paused on one with three young boys standing on the side of the road facing the camera straight on. The first boy was tall and had a jacket coat that was still too big for him and a loose cap. The next boy was smaller and had baggy trousers and wore boots. The last boy on the end was the smallest he looked about my age. He was very pale and wore a thin shirt and had nothing on his feet. The eldest boy held something in his hand that I couldn’t see...

Title: Grandad's photos

ran out of time on this one.

by danieljoelbaty

[danieljoelbaty]

(re-write)10 Minute Story - Day 18

original image prompt:

Sandy rock walls stretch high on either side of me with the sun lighting up the day. I’m running along the river's edge, following the current. The smooth river stones scatter behind my bare feet, each step a shifting crunch then a small explosion of pebbles and dust. I’m running hard, pushing myself forward. I can feel the air sweeping my hair back and roaring past my ears. I’m sure that if I could only go a little faster, I would lift off the ground and serge through the air.

I look back, and I see James, my older brother, We’re playing tag or something. He’s behind me, and I’m running away. We’re laughing together. He’s faster than me so I have to sprint as hard as I can to keep away from him. I look over my shoulder again and he’s gaining on me, his face is bright and wide. I’m not looking where I’m going. Then I hear this...

Snap!

I’m running along the river's edge, pushing myself forward. The air sweeps my hair back and roars past me. My head is down. I can see the river flowing fast; I’m racing against the current. I’m going so fast I could take off at any second. I can see James there in front of me and the dust he’s kicking up between us. He’s looking over his shoulder at me, his face all bright and wide laughing. My face is hard, and I’m growling under my breath.

I’m chasing him. His dust. His face. His laugh. I can't see or hear anything else till a loud snap. A log sticking out or a hidden boulder under the sea of stones? The ground somersaults. Water splashes up around me. Pelting my face as it falls back down. And then the laughing. Loud mocking laughter. A hard biting pain on my skin along my arm. He runs over and stands above me in the water. His face, all bright and wide laughing long and hard. Why doesn’t someone stop him? Where’s Mum? Why doesn’t she stop him? Why do I have to endure this? Why!?

Slap!

I can feel the sharp stones scratching up my bare feet. The smell of the hot dust and the roar of the wind. I’m running along the river's edge, pushing myself forward. My head is locked down straight as if my neck and spine are one continuous rod. The river flows faster, racing along as I sprint against the current. James is there in front of me, cackling away. I’m so mad. I hate him. I want to fly, to leap into the air and swoop down, catch him in my claws. I want to catch him so badly and make him feel small like he makes me feel but I’m too weak, too slow, he’s already pulling away from me getting smaller in my sight. He’s laughing at me and calling me names because he knows he can. My face is tight and hard. I’m not laughing. My eyes are narrowed on his path and my brow’s bent deep into my forehead.

Then the crack! Like thick wood tearing over itself. A horrible clash of solid and hollow, of bone giving way. I see him flying just like I thought I could. And landing down hard, in a loose mess of limbs impossibly far away into the water. The river splashes up around him drawing a veil of water between us. And he screamed, he screamed without language just indecipherable pain. It isn’t like my screams, a child's scream like when I’m afraid, or I would scream till Mum would tell me I was alright. It was a long, hollow shout that stopped me in my tracks.

I can hear my thoughts inside my head. I know I wasn’t the cause of it. No one meant for it to happen. I hadn’t wished it. But I could feel my face widen. Maybe I wanted it.

Laughing.

I was laughing now. It wasn’t a short HA. It isn’t a snicker. I’m not holding anything in. I’m laughing hard and long, and I don’t want to stop. I think I was scared for him while I heard that crunch but now it just feels...wonderful. To listen to that scream. Him screaming finally. Mum and Dad are around him now, he’s still howling, and I’m still laughing. As mum cradles him to her chest oblivious of the water ruining her dress Dad slaps my arm hard, but it doesn’t stop me for long. I don’t stop until mum looks up from James and looks into me. Her eyes are frightened and sad and angry, and all manner of things that I can’t look away from and her eyes make me feel shame. And I feel smaller than ever.

And I ran away, back along the river’s edge.

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 18

Image prompt:

We ran along the river's edge, loose rocks shuffling underneath us, the smooth stones not slowing our bare feet down. I remember the crunching sound that each step would make as you scattered them behind your eyes always on the target ahead. We were playing tag or go-home-stay-home or something like that. I just remember pushing myself as hard as I could head locked down, the air sweeping back my hair and roaring in my ears. You know that feeling when you could just lift off the ground and serge through the air. I was a missile locked on my target. I remember the sounds of giggling I’m not sure if it was me or my brothers. I had selected John as my target he was the next smallest after me so I was more likely to catch him though I rarely did. I remember going so fast but I could still never catch either of them. I don’t think I was laughing now I remember. Was I angry? Can’t quite see it. I can just feel my face tightening and my sight narrowing as I think about it. They were always teasing me for being the smallest or the slowest. John says it was the same before I was born Jack picked on him till I came along. Then, Crunch! A hidden boulder under the sea of stones or a log stinking out catching bone. I can hear the sound of him hitting whatever it was and him flying just like I thought I could. And landing down in a loose mess of limbs impossibly far away into the water, the river splash up around him blocking him from our sights... And he screamed, he screamed without language indecipherable pain. It wasn’t a child's scream like when you get afraid because your bleeding or you scream till your mum tells you your safe. It was a long, hollow shout that stopped me in my tracks. I remember laughing then. I guess can’t feel too bad about it now. But I laughed hard and long till Mum smacked me hard on the arm. It wasn’t like a funny pratfall, I think I was scared for him while I heard that crunch but then it just felt wonderful. Him screaming finally. 

Title: The dark mind of the riverside

by danieljoelbaty

This got quite dark quickly but in my head, it was always as if this was a repressed memory-dream the boy is having when he is much older and realizing things about himself he isn’t proud of, I’ve actually attempted to make a longer version of this story where he has the dream consistently over many nights with the dream slowly morphing into the truth with this version being the reality that he eventually uncovers, I might post it up later

[danieljoelbaty]

10 Minute Story - Day 17

Image prompt:

Nathan swung lazily on his rusted swing set creaking in time with him, watching the clouds move slowly in the wind observing the huge blobs of fluffy air slowly morph into familiar shapes a dragon, a dog, a boat.

A heavy thump on the glass doors behind him, then the shattering of class.

Nathan loved learning about clouds and knew all their proper names, he held up his fingers to a towering Cumulonimbus, thousands of meters above him, not quite attached to the sky, not quite separate from it and he squished it between his fingers

Muffled screams from over his shoulder and a roar, don’t turn, don’t look, be seen but quiet and unheard, watch the cloud, swing on the swings, listen to the creaks and squeaks and don’t turn around.

A fanning Cirrostratus spraying it’s reaching brush strokes along the horizon an impossible distance far away from him, from his swings and the sliding glass door. He leant back, positioning the rubber seat under his spine so he could look at the sun above him just behind the tower, escaping through the finer gaps but soon the tower would dissolve and the sun would beat down on his eyes.

Title: white storm clouds

by danieljoelbaty