Thursday, 12 April 2012

Handle - mat - collapse

As the rhyme goes on beyond the door, you reach for the iron handle. Movement on the floor catches your eye, and with a puff of dust the doormat strikes, sinking bristles deep.

You fall back, off balance, and seize a wiry root running out through the brick wall. For a moment it takes your full weight, then pulls away, and with a pounding of brickwork and rush of loam the tunnel collapses, carrying away the world in cold dust and damp earth.

Silence. Pressure and pain. The darkness grips tight and you realise you are buried - held down deep. You splutter in panic, spitting out clumps of soil and worms. They tumble back. Choking.

Cry out for help   Blog One
Struggle against the weight   Blog One
Attempt to compose yourself and take stock   Blog One
_

2 comments:

Jennie said...

Linked! It will be interesting to see where it goes from here. I like your options...

Porky said...

Thanks for that. It's been niggling away that I had to leave the link. I have another scene sketched out which should be up soon, that 'Northwest Passage' between the base of the tree and the Gj and Hereticwerks set.

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