It’s comforting to know that in an ever-changing world some things remain the same…
After several weeks of abstinence the lure of THREE winning stories in the weekly adhoc-fiction 150 word prompt competition was too much for me to avoid.
The prompt was calm, the inspiration, my local running routes.
The resultant failure of Chasing The Sky to entice the voting public was inevitable and strangely joyous…
The first steps into chaos. Dark. Windy. The days are getting longer but Winter still reaches over its shoulder to dig frosted claws into Spring in the hour before dawn. Sporadic headlights flash close to the highway. Lost souls ready to punch the clock.
It takes me eleven fog-breathed minutes to reach the forest. The only headlights remaining dance like fireflies on the slopes of the mountain. Trail junkies satisfying their craving for adrenalin. I stick to the wider tracks. The continuous climb and the taste of my blood pumping don’t need to be augmented with the risk of broken bones.
The path levels, and the world drops away in the pre-dawn murk. I push myself harder and race the sun to the old blockhouse. As I breathe my way back to calm, the sky sparks to flame. From the ashes of night the city below me is born anew.