Since joining, I haven't been able to do any of Rachael Harrie's Campaign Challenges yet so I thought I better hop on the last one! The rules are over here and this one is about "show not tell." I'm running out the door for some basketball so had to whip this up and hopefully it'll work! And let's hope I don't break anything trying to recapture my youth.
"Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post should show: (1) that it’s morning (2) that a man or a woman -- or both -- is at the beach (3) that the main character is bored (4) that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting (5) that something surprising happens."
Dictionary Brown wiggled his toes against the sand, trying to move them even an inch. How long before the tide rolled back in? Fifteen minutes, an hour? Would he try to hold his breath or would he just let the water wash over him? He tried to clench his hands but they too, didn’t respond.
Barely able to crane his neck more than a few degrees, he saw a familiar sight at the edge of his peripheral vision. It was slumped over, long titian-colored hair obscuring the face of his girlfriend. A thin darker shade of red dripped from the crown of her head. “Nancy!” he gurgled out, throat constricting with the effort.
A breeze brought the scent of her distinctive shampoo floating his way. Dictionary hated that smell but Nancy loved it because it was unique. “Amorphophallus titanum, it’s the corpse flower!” It had cost her $49.99 on darketsy.com, her favorite shopping site. Even though the stench of it threatened to make him dizzier than he already was, he tried to capture every last whiff.
How would he describe this situation later in his memoirs? “Adjective: Reckless or dangerous because of despair or urgency. Leaving little to no hope. Extremely bad; intolerable or shocking.” No, he’d use “bored.” Yes, that’s how he would describe it. It would be more accurate.
A shadow passed over him, blocking his view of the rising sun. “Hello Leroy,” he said, staring up at his brother. Addressing the pair behind Encyclopedia, he added, “Frank, Joe, good to see you too.” The two dimwits used to work for him but had recently deserted one cause or party for the opposite faction.
Turncoats.
Assholes.
It wouldn’t matter. Dictionary had gotten the TV show, he had gotten the girl, and now, he was going to get even.
