Ali, sets a weekly writing challenge, I try to participate where I can, although the days of me doing several challenges each week has dwindled. But this week I did participate. Partly because her challenge focused on an area of weakness for me. If you haven’t ever taken part you should. Check out her latest purple prose challenge.
I am not great at descriptive writing, drawing images and creating flowery writing, so I decided to have a go on part of the latest bit of Adultland. It’s at 14K and 8 chapters in, although I suspect by the time this goes live, it will be 9 or 10 chapters in. Below is an excerpt from the end of chapter 8. I have tried to tweak it to fit Ali’s challenge of ‘purple prose’ she did say no dialogue….I cheated, but then I never was one to follow the rules!
Chapter 8 Excerpt
I ran to the window, desperate to see an obvious clue, a sign, anything to explain what Hawk meant when he said ‘look down at the edge of the city.’
I slumped against the glass and peered at the crippled world below. The city looked like a broken solider, exhausted and weary after war. My chest tightened like a vice, tears clawed at my throat. I couldn’t believe that a single year of neglect could create such a mass of crumbling houses. Plant life ravaged entire sections of the city. Green spread like bacteria until it consumed its host.
I glanced at the wall; a merciless guard, towering above us, watching, just like the Hunters did. Silent, certain, infinite.
I squinted. I could see over the wall. The morning sun was high enough that I could see for several miles. Two more spheres bordered distant cities. I frowned, unsure of what I was seeing. I pressed my face against the glass straining, they weren’t spheres, they were walls. Walls that trapped other cities. Other children.
“Oh my god,” I gasped and took a step back. I stumbled into the office desk, the corner of the table dug into my thigh. I stepped back, tripped over a shoe box. A hand caught me, enveloped my body and stopped me hitting the deck. The sweet scent of a woody perfume wrapped around me. I knew that smell. Another hand slipped over my mouth.
“Don’t scream,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. Fire ignited in my chest.
© Copyright 2015 Sacha Black