It’s Five Sentence Fiction time! Feel free to take Lillie McFerrin’s challenge. Write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction. This week’s word is Sombrero.
It was another hot and dusty day drawing moisture from every blistered pore, leaving his eyes and even the inside of his mouth dry and desiccated. The sun, which was unbearable yesterday and even more punishing this morning, bleached the featureless landscape to a uniform yellow-white. Earlier the distant horizon wavered as if melting from the heat, but it was the huge anvil cloud that currently had his full attention spreading out flat across its bottom while the center poked up towards the heavens like a massive sombrero. As he watched, a branching bolt of lightening scratched at the dessert floor beneath the distant thunderhead and a cruel rain began to fall. It was much too far away to bring him any relief in the form of shade or precipitation making it clear to him that he would soon be a dead man.
Got five sentences in you? Go ahead and share them!
Painted a great picture with this. Poor guy.
I will have to try to be more positive in future FSF posts. All of my previous ones seem to tend towards death, destruction, vomiting… Oh well, you gotta go where the muse points you
We all know how fickle the muse is! Your stuff has been good
Air traffic controller Pete Dirks was tired, dead tired, but the morning rush of pesky commuter jets mixed in with the late night box haulers and west coast red-eyes splayed out on his screen like some faulty fireworks explosion would not allow for any foreseeable break. His sleeplessness, self induced from yesterday’s thunderstorm filled swing shift along with “One more drink, Pete.” and “Five more minutes, you pussy!” during the mandatory decompression seminar at the “He Just Left!” bar, have created double targets on his screen. “Just let me pull my feet up, dip my head under one of those huge hats for fifteen minutes.” Pete mumbled as the display in front of him suddenly brightened with insistent, ominous flashing from two targets. “Oh, fuck me!” Pete inhaled, now awakened fully by a powerful surge of adrenaline that made his entire body tingle, “Western 341, turn right heading one seven zero IMMEDIATELY, descend and maintain flight level two three zero!”
Western 341 Captain Charles Horne was tired, dead tired…
Another slow day and another great story. I really like your writing style. Great last sentence. I like how you tie it back to the first one. Thanks for playing…
I was going to say your piece is ‘cool’, but it so wasn’t…I could feel the heat blistering! Great piece and great inspiration for BusRider too, wouldn’t want to be arriving at his airport…won’t even mention the pilot! lol. Loved the ‘tired, dead tired’ tie in too!
Lisa, thanks for the encouragement. It is good to know that feeling of heat came across. Thanks for the feed back!
VERY well cone….having spent some time in the Arizona & California deserts, it was definitely realistic.
I appreciate it. My father-in-law lives in Tucson so I have a sense of the dry heat out there and I have watched storms advance from a long distance. Thanks. I’m glad you liked it!
…um, that was DONE not cone. LOL!
I’m a horrible speller and didn’t even notice the mistake. You always get at least one free typo. The next one you will pay for…
The sense of arid desert surroundings comes across very well. I need some water now. Nice one.
drink up…
Very interesting take and wow — you really created an atmosphere there.
Thanks! I was a little thrown at first trying to figure out what to write with the Sombrero prompt. I decided not to take it so literally. I think that helped. I appreciate your feed back.
I couldn’t help myself. Here’s another 5 sentences:
I pulled up behind a Toyota minivan evidenced by its logo of two overlapping but perpendicular ovals that always looked to me like a man in a sombrero. Laura laughed lightly pointing at the stick figures plastered on the back windshield and said, “Wow, that must have been a nasty divorce.”
“Why do you say that,” I asked stealing a quick look at my lovely wife.
“Well just look,” she replied pointing at the stick figures again. There was the history of their marriage: two cats, a dog, a young soccer playing son, a teenage daughter, mom, and a gap where dad once was but had been razor-bladed from the window leaving nothing but part of his left arm.
Very powerful. You can feel his anguish at the out of reach, life giving rain and acceptance of his fate.
Thank you very much. I appreciate the feedback and I’m glad you stopped by.