Every Wednesday Rorschach Wisoff-Fields posts a picture prompt to challenge writers to create a 100-word story or poem or anything that works for you. After you post your work on your blog, go back to her site and post a link to your blog entry on her Friday Fictioneers post. Place. Page.
I’m going to try to keep up with this, as should you. Give it a shot. I prefer to stick to 100 words, but she doesn’t mind either way. Not everyone has the time to sit and write, revise, edit, revise, edit, etc. until getting it down to 100 and telling everything you want to tell.
Rocket’s Red Glare
Colorful booms, screams, blasts, overwhelmed their senses. Frightened eyes wide, wider. Nervous hands reached for something, anything to stop it. But others were transfixed, frozen by the flashes, blasts, howls. He regained awareness. Clumsy hands covered awkward ears. Shaking, panicking, remembering emergency procedures. “Nobody else sees this danger? They’re attacking!” Others on board – motionless, awestruck. Not him. So small but climbing into the control chair as others stared blankly. He pressed buttons. Engines humming. Turbines spinning. Lasers charging. Cylinders opening.
Baby Jessica gazed skyward at new lights, booms. Then cries. Alien craft, just now visible, began firing back at Earth.
I had a busy few days and didn’t get to this until very late Thursday. I don’t feel as strongly about this as other weeks. oh well, can’t win ‘em all.