Prompt #2

I wanted to do so much more with this, but the deadline crept up behind me too quickly! Oh well, perhaps I'll revisit it once I'm back on campus.

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A pleasant feeling, that.

The water, I mean. Gentle, a cat’s caress around my ankles, cooling the fever in my blood, but adding warmth to my soul. A slight tug, I shuffle forward. Comforting. The tug becomes more enticing, ever-so-slightly more powerful. Another small step, then another, another. I sit, for it is far easier to let the flow take me.

Silly. The water isn’t nearly deep enough. But then, suddenly, it is. The riverbed has dropped out from underneath me. I float along on my back contentedly, closing my eyes, allowing the river to gently lap over me from time to time as it swiftly carries me away.

I remember flashes.

A car ride, a thunderstorm, a bridge. A feeling of claustrophobia, a feeling of suffocation, hopelessness.

But it all seems so far away, so far away indeed.

I float along endlessly. That is to say, until I reach the end. I feel myself bump along the ground, my butt dragging against the side of the riverbank. Startled, I sit up, water cascading from my hair and body as I do so. I lean forward, allowing my hair to fall in a curtain in front of my face. I watch as the seeming waterfall slows to the rate of a dripping faucet, the once solid mass of hair now separating into thick, wavy columns.

I am dead. I don’t let little things bother me, though.

It takes a moment for my eyes to full adjust. Sweeping the hair away from my face helps. I lean back, resting on the palms of my hands. I squish and squeeze the mud through my fingers for a while. The soft, gritty texture makes me smile.

A slight breeze rustles through the tall grass that frames the bank. I push myself to my feet. The sluggish trudging out of the river begins. Shloop! Shloop! It’s as if the mud of the river wants to cement me in place, but I wish to see what is beyond the banks. I carry on. Shloop!

I am relieved of my shoes. I write it off as a present to the river, in thanks for a smooth ride. They’ll probably be re-gifted.

The land is full of lush, green grass. I remove my sodden socks so I can feel the slight sharpness as I walk. I glance back at the river, noting that my shoes have disappeared entirely into the mud.

“When you are ready, return to me.” The river says.

I nod and continue to walk away, all the while admonishing myself for listening to a river. A river, after all, cannot talk. Therefore, listening to one would be a silly choice. Nonetheless, I took the words to heart, tucking them away in my mind.

Prompt #1 You can never tell! (draft)

“I’m not suggesting that they remove it, but don’t you find it a bit sadistic to have a police blotter in the newspaper?” She inquired, looking up at her friend over the top of “The Daily Grind.” Her friend just stared at her in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me? If those jackasses are stupid enough to break the law, and get caught, then they damn well better be exposed to the public. It’s common sense. We, as the public, deserve to learn all about these idiots. Besides, I always look in them expecting to see someone I recognize from high school.” He snagged the paper from her hand and flipped to the blotter.

“Now, see, I think that setup is odd. Having it next to the obits is just weird.” He said while scanning the ages in the obituaries.

“It’s the most viewed page in the entire newspaper, which is pretty morbid.” She stated, resting her head upon her hand.

“Again, how else would you find out about someone you were acquainted with if you didn’t look? Ahh, high numbers this time around. That’s good to see.” He shifted his attention to the police blotter. “Aha, get this: ‘Fourteen year old female caught shoplifting at local Macy’s, charges pending.’ Wow, it seems like there it one of these every time… Is it really too much for them to ask Mommy and Daddy for a couple of bucks so they can by their shitty Hanna Montana posters or whatever the hell it is fourteen year olds are into these days?” Bitterness and annoyance dripped from his voice.

“Eh, trial and error, my friend. I wish I had done more bullshit when I was younger. No jail time for a minor, yeah?” A wry smile graced her features. “Imagine killing a that bully who pushed you too far when you were twelve, or that teacher who gave you a failing grade on a report you worked your ass off to do. Scott free! It would be amazing!”

“No, it would really depend on the crime. There’s still Juvee, you know.” He looked back down at the paper, ignoring his companion’s hefty sigh. A crack whore here, a piece of trailer trash there, the usual crime that brought a chuckle to the lips was what consisted of today’s column. He was about to turn the page when a name caught his eye. He flipped the paper around so it rested in front of his friend, and pointed to the name. She raised an eyebrow and leaned forward to take a closer look.

“Hey… We went to high school with her…” She shook her head. “DUI, operating without a license, resisting arrest, assault on an officer, damn, who would have thought?”

“She seemed pretty nice. I mean, I had a couple of classes with her senior year. She was kind of quiet.” He stood and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a large jug of iced tea. “Sometimes people just snap.”

“I guess so. Hey, I’m just glad it wasn’t you or me.” She said with a shrug. “Oh, and pour me a glass of that, would ya?”

“You got it.”