300 words or less, write about a character you are writing about (or make one up) who faces a choice... and have him/her flip a coin to make a decision.
Post your entry on your blog on Wednesday 9/26 and leave a message in Fairbetty's World comments so she doesn't overlook you! If you don't already know, She is starting an editing business called Writing Refinery. Two lucky entrants will receive a free critique of the first 30 pages of your manuscript!
Post your entry on your blog on Wednesday 9/26 and leave a message in Fairbetty's World comments so she doesn't overlook you! If you don't already know, She is starting an editing business called Writing Refinery. Two lucky entrants will receive a free critique of the first 30 pages of your manuscript!
“Dieter! Dieter! How are you my friend?” His German was rusty but better than my Polish.
“I’m good, Jerak, and you?”
His face beamed a smile as bright as the sun but he spoke a hollow, “Better.”
He did look better. Not so scraggy. My fingers nervously roll a bread ball I had hidden in my breeches. If mother knew food had been stolen from her table she’d tan my hide.
“What do you have their?” Jerak’s eyes envied the golden brown sphere I now trolled.
Carefully I placed the ball between the holes in the fence.
“Hey you there!”
I jumped, dropping the ball onto the ground.
“What are you doing here boy?” The soldier hissed, his gun pointed towards the ground.
Nervously I saluted, “Hail Hitler!”
Jerak winced.
The soldier smirked.
“I said what are you doing her boy?”
“I’m – I’m visiting my friend sir,” I tried to sound strong but it came out as a whimper.
“You’re friend?”
“Yes sir. Before – we attended school together sir. I only wanted to bring him bread. Please don’t tell my papa!”
“I’ll make you deal.” He flashed a coin, flipping it through the air. “Heads I let you stay, tails you leave and I tell. Deal?”
I nodded. By now Jerak had half eaten the bread ball. Fear gave way to starvation every time.
By the time I looked back, the coin was resting, covered, on the back of the soldier’s hand. “Ready?”
I nodded again.
“Tails!” He boasted. Time to go home, Dieter. Let’s try again tomorrow.”
We knew tomorrow wouldn’t come. Tears ran down my face as Jerak’s screams were muffled followed by POP, POP.
The thought of my situation made my stomach hitch. My hide is sure to be tanned, for that soldier is my brother.
Wow. Poor boy. Both of them.
ReplyDeleteI hadn't heard of this blogfest. It would've been a fun one to do. Oh well.
What a fun blogfest! So clever! I wish it weren't today already, I'd want to participate! And great writing, Danielle ;)
ReplyDeleteYou can still participate if you want to
DeleteThanks for playing! Although playing seems a little too light a word for the entry you submitted. Great job creating tension.
ReplyDeleteOh how sad! What a great piece.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great idea for a blogfest!
ReplyDeleteGreat twist of events here with your piece.