It’s Tuesday, and that means it’s time for #5MinuteFiction. Today marks Week 89 for this fabulous contest, and Week 1 at it’s new home with Nicole Wolverton’s blog. I met Nicole through our competitions during this weekly contest and just want to give her a shout out and say thank you for giving it a new home!
Big love to Leah Petersen, who created this weekly contest and hosted it for almost 2 years. With her book coming out, she has to let go of this brain child.
Here’s the 5MinuteFiction deal: The prompt goes up at 12:30pm EST, you have 5 minutes to use the prompt and write your story. There is no editing, no research, no spell checking… you just GO! Then a judge picks five finalists and the public votes on the winner. Easy as pie.
Today’s prompt was: “It tightened and tangled, like a…”
Here is my entry (warts and all):
ETA: My post made it to the finals! Go read and vote for your fave!
God, the pain. It tightened and tangled, like a baling wire around my
head and around my heart. How can one word hold so much weight?
The doctor said it came on like a wave, a tsunami. There really
wasn’t anything we could have done to prevent it, to prepare, to
pre-see. He said “we” like this will impact his day. His week. His
I sat in the doc’s office, the hard plastic chair making it
impossible to stop sliding, as I tried to stay focused on the words as
they fell from his lips and shattered on the floor. So many tiny shards I
couldn’t avoid stepping into them with my loafered feet: Chemotherapy.
Radiation. Surgery. Lymph. Prognosis.
Weeks. Maybe months.
Like a crap shoot. The doctor’s words rolled off his tongue like he
was rolling the dice. Life dice. My life dice. How long would I have
before I crapped out? I already feel like I’ve rolled snake eyes.
He takes my hand, shakes it firmly. Squeezes my shoulder as he urges
me toward the door. As if I am now repellant enough to require shooing. I
step into the sunlight and breathe in the sun. Is this the beginning of
my recovery or the beginning of the end?
Only time will tell.