Your 100 Word Challenge this week is to write 100 words exactly (no more, no less) based on the prompt:
Barren!
(as chosen by Maddy and Louis…)
Your 100 Word Challenge this week is to write 100 words exactly (no more, no less) based on the prompt:
Barren!
(as chosen by Maddy and Louis…)
The unforgiving blizzard raged on,
Sand flicking up and twirling in obscene and abstract dances. Some would see darkness and cruelty in this, but for the people of the Attacama Desert, they only see hope and light. All God’s thrashing and beating of the year, suddenly whisked away by the wind…
Once the small pellets had punctured the unsheltered beings mercilessly, it stopped… Then finally it came… the rain. They rejoiced. The men and women danced in rags, while the children bathed in the newly founded pools of collected water. Too long they had waited for this day. Too long.
Coooooooool. Nice story, Louis!
It was a calm Saturday morning and the sleepy, bored boy was sitting on an uncomfortable rock shaped like an old, battered seat. He was sick and tired because there is not much you can do in the middle of the harsh, deadly desert. What could he do on this dull day? The boy could try to find water, hunt or just sit there. Hunting was the best choice, and he thought about the prey available. “Now where is my grey stone spear?” he spotted the spear resting against yet another boring, dull, dusty rock in the seemingly, endless abyss.
As I wandered across the barren wasteland, I remembered. The memories of how the missiles had torn through the sky and pockmarked the land. That was just the beginning. Eventually they started to blow up, releasing nuclear fallout into the atmosphere. I stood in front of what was left of my house and pushed open the door. A ghoul stood there so I shot it. I looked down and saw two skeletons. My wife and my daughter. A crumpled family photo was stuck between the bony fingers of my beloved. Now I travel through New Vegas bearing a curse. Loss.
This is a tribute to Fallout 4 New Vegas. 😉
I breathed in.
Closed my eyes.
Was this the end?
Life seemed to slow down.
If it was there anymore.
I did not know.
His hand curled around the knife as he threw it.
He had hours to waste.
I had nothing.
Not anymore.
Waking up, I felt nothing.
My normally tanned skin was a pristine white.
Around me, all was that same untarnished white.
Where was I?
Heaven?
Hell?
Or something else?
She came up to me.
The woman.
Another bulk of supernatural white.
She took me across the blanched ground.
Then I saw it.
And I think it saw me too.
Every day the same job, again and again. Up to collect the water that is gathered by the giant nylon nets that stretch across the barren desert. Walking up with my tired legs throbbing under the weight of my body. Passing the familiar scenery: the spiked, vicious cacti and the dry brown grass, yep that’s about it. Stepping on a shell, I wonder how this land could have once been a ferocious sea; carrying my ancestors to set up home here. I looked inside a barrel to see the precious water shine in the sun. I turned and walked back.
Many people think that the Arctic region is a barren place but actually there is more wildlife than you think. Because the plant life is so minimal, a normal dog could not survive in these harsh circumstances compared to an Arctic fox which is very well adapted to the weather. One of the other species that is native to the Arctic is the Beluga whale, which produces the most expensive eggs in the world. They are called Beluga caviar and cost a stunning $7000 to $10000 dollars for 1 kilogram- apples only cost 3 to 4 pounds!
As the scorching, barren landscape rolled, the tangled tumble-weed across the dry, sandy earth. An arrow plunged into the back of a large scorpion and fell, covered in the oozing blood of its prey.
“Oi! That was my shot!” screamed a small-sunburned child.
“What you gonna do about it, wimp!” replied the aggravating boy to his left.
“Batter you, that’s what!”
“I’d like to see you try! You couldn’t even graze me if you tried!” Spoke the boy to the left with confidence
“Yeah, course!”
“A-all right then.” Quivered the boy to the left, his confidence dropping.
The fight began…
The muddy hill where no-one goes,
The rocky slopes,
The wild beasts,
The dying plants,
The shrivelled leaves,
And on the top, the very top,
The gnarled tree,
The barren tree,
The crippled limbs,
The knobs and knots,
No leaves, no blossom,
No colour but brown,
No moss nor fungi,
No growth at all.
The twisted roots,
The thick still roots,
And in the top most branch, a tangle of twigs,
A woven nest,
An abandoned nest,
The old shells,
The old life,
The life that used to flourish,
In the barren tree,
The gnarled tree,
The sad tree.