I hadn't written a thing since I got sick -- until Edittorrent posted a challenge.
The limitations! I loved it! Why do limitations make writing easier?
So I wrote. (I also bookmarked Carina Press's what-we-want entry because that's almost like a challenge, but for something longer.)
Of course I sent it to them, but since I wasn't in on the beginning and I never signed up for a team I don't think its eligible for points in their contest. That makes it nothing more than an exercise. An inspiration. But that's not a small thing for someone who has been too miserable or too much in pain for what feels like forever.
It feels like a new beginning. So, here it is. Enjoy....
Andrew leaned back against the tree. It was too small, shaking with his every movement, sprinkling white powder over him, making gentle mounds across his shoulders and head. Mounds he couldn’t find the energy to push off. He should have chosen a larger tree; a more solid one. Maybe a tree that kept had enough leaves to provide some small protection from the wind, though that wasn’t really the biggest threat right then.
The real threat was exhaustion. He knew it. He should still be walking, but he couldn't seem to convince himself to stand back up. The danger fluttered across the front of his mind, but it really didn’t matter as much as it should. One more hill. One more valley. One more step. He hadn’t been lost too long, he could still make it. All he had to do was stand.
Stand up. Walk.
And he would.