Monday, 23 November 2020

THE JIG OF DEATH

 I entered a competition to write a 100 word story based on a winter scene photograph they provided (below).  Well, it didn't even make the long list (they have no taste 😉) but it didn't take me ages to put together and I enjoyed the challenge.

 I've never written a story from the first person point of view of a male protagonist, and was inspired to do this by the novel I am reading- The Secret History, by Donna Tartt- which is similarly written.  It's fun to keep on trying new techniques and therefore stretch myself; honing my craft.


THE JIG OF DEATH

   How did I get outside- am I developing dementia? As if tachycardia wasn't enough. I curse this old man's body.

My head expands, my chest swooshes with blood, and I feel like I'm being gagged. I cough, but my breath is invisible on the gelid air.

My gait eases, newly enthralled by the tune. It's a jig, played on a wooden recorder like mine. It's coming from my house- but I live alone!

A dead man is my only welcome. Turning, I see that my footsteps have made no indentation in the snow.

Copyright©Elaine Rockett

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