A challenge for everyone:
How often in life, do you see someone just silently staring into space. What are they thinking, what is their story? Are they happy, sad, reflecting, remembering, worried.
I walked past a person staring out a window. No movement, no expression. I Challenged myself to write a story about his silent thoughts, what was he thinking.
The challenge to you, it must be between roughly 600-650 words. It must be written nonstop in one sitting. (Take your time and work it in your head before you begin).
For more of a challenge allow yourself only ONE edit. Let us know if you succeeded with one edit.
On your submission note that it is for the: JBaz 'Silent thought' Challenge.
Link your story below:
'A wasted life'.
That thought resonated over and over in his mind.
Memories of slamming doors echo within the folding silence of his home. No, that statement is incorrect. It was no longer a home, only an empty vessel, like his soul.
His hands tremble, it always starts with the little finger twitching uncontrollably. Then like a marching band on parade the other fingers join in, dancing to an unheard rhythm. His heart flutters in time, forcing tainted blood through his failing body.
Longing to hear a sound, any sound other then the voices yelling in his head. There is only silence. Children's voices gone forever. In truth, he never heard their shouts of joy or cries of sorrow, and this is why he stands alone. Staring out a window with no view, creating pictures of better times that must have been.
A plaintive ring shatters false visions of a better life. Reality once more dominating the empty spaces within the house. The only movement he gives, is a slight swivel of his head as he stares at the phone, vibrating with each sound as it cries out, begging to be held. Like everything else in his life, he ignores the audible plea, until it too falls silent.
The black and white photo remains in his left hand, gripped in a gentle clutch he tries hard not to lift it up for the hundredth time today, it only causes pain. He chances a glance and regrets it immediately. Eyes stare back, burning into his soul, they are full of love and admiration.
How did this once full life become so empty? Stupid question when you know the answer. Yet, he asks it everyday, and everyday he fails to listen to the truth. But the truth is twisted, a reality unto its own, a lie camouflaged as truth. Yet it was all he had, it got him through the long days and terrifying nights.
He cherishes the heat of the setting sun upon his body, the only warmth he will feel tonight or tomorrow or the day after. A clock ticks in a distant room, counting the seconds for no reason at all. Time is meaningless yet it is always around, reminding him of how little he had left.
A breeze flows through the open window, scent of fresh cut grass and dying flowers tickle his senses. Stirring memories of forgotten times, which still dare to linger longer than wanted. Buried thoughts to elusive and painful to capture or even try remembering. It is easier to forget.
Family gone; friends lost.
Given the chance, he would change, he must change, he will change. With determination, he would make it right. Run after them, plead, assure promises of becoming a better man.
A new sensation, a revelation fills his soul. A smile returns to a face that has only produced frowns. There is a jump to his step as he turns to regain the life he once had, to hold his family in his arms. Renew floundering and forgotten friendships. There will be joy in his life once more.
He made it as far as the bottle of scotch.
Tomorrow he would change, but first…
Thank you and good luck on your story,
About the Creator
I have enjoyed writing for most of my life, never professionally.
I wish to now share my stories with others, lets see where it goes.
Born and raised on the Canadian Prairies, I currently reside on the West Coast. I call both places home.