The Weekly Writing Prompt
I just can't not participate in these little writing exercises. Thanks again to Nicole and Carrie for hosting the prompt. They are a lot of fun. Here's the rules, if you don't already know about the Weekly Writing Prompt.
1) Use the photo and the 5 words provided in your story
2) Keep your word count 500 words or less.3) You have until next Tuesday to link up your post.
4) Go to websites: HERE and HERE, link your post at the: Add you link button.
5) Have fun, don’t stress, let those creative juices flow.
This week's five words to use are:
Gallows
Tide
Mat
Section
Staple
Here's this week's attempt. Hope you like it!
Gut Instinct
Katrina nervously peered around the corner and tried keeping her heart from beating out of her chest. The alleyway looked the same as it did the last time she checked thirty minutes earlier.
"Get a grip Katrina!" Her whispered words sounded hollow in her own ears. "Come on...you're a Wharton graduate...you're a CEO of a Fortune 500 company...you can get out of this!"She willed her legs to move from the shadows into the dank narrow alleyway. Nervously the striking brunette ventured into the street.
As she walked a poem surfaced in her anxious brain, a poem she studied in an English class while an undergraduate. The name of the author escaped her, but she never forget the poem. Try as she might to keep the words returning, they overpowered the scared woman's resolve.
There is a fear that grows, like a vengeful tide it rises to feed,
In the shadows it hides allowing no escape,
To the gallows our souls march, a staple of humanity fulfills its need,
And a mat that covers, a shroud, a drape,
It eats my section and never stops.
Katrina's heels clicked on the cold pavement and echoed throughout the empty space. With every step her head canvased the street. She looked both in front of her and behind and saw nothing. Gut instinct told her she didn't successfully evade Malcolm's Mercedes and that he was somewhere close. Halfway up the alleyway the sound of the German import's motor cranking over told her that her gut instinct was dead on.
Lights burst behind her head. A jolt of electricity raced up Katrina's spine as she heard the sound of the car's tires scream from the friction of rubber and asphalt. She ran and hoped to God the information she received the day before was right. Either she would meet her contact or the end of the alleyway would be the last thing she ever saw.
Word Count: 321
