Tuesday’s Storybook Picture

Okay, I took this picture last September. Let’s see if can inspire a story in anyone. :)

phpjx8p5rpm


Bookmark This
[del.icio.us] [Digg] [Facebook] [kirtsy] [MySpace] [Reddit] [Squidoo] [StumbleUpon] [Technorati] [Twitter] [Email]
Sarah Jensen
Picture of Sarah

Sarah is writer looking for an agent. She is currently working on novel # 4, editing novels 2 and 3, and querying novel # 1. For more insight to her work, visit: http://legendoftheprotectors.wordpress.com/ or http://legendoftheprotectors.blogspot.com/



5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

The sharp intake of my breath marks the bewilderment of my awakening. I lean forward to a sitting position and feel the hard grainy surface beneath my khaki shorts. My hand instinctually rises to the back of my head and confirms my suspicion.

I had fallen.

It didn’t look too far. Not enough to kill me obviously, but far enough that I know there is no chance of my climbing out. On my own at least.

With wide eyes I take in my surroundings. It is dark here–the only light falling off to my left on the sandy floor, illuminating something that knocks the breath from me for a second time.

The signature curl of the tail makes me jump back as the scorpion crawls closer. My hands skim along the solid rock below me and I move to put as much distance as possible between us. The dreaded insect loses interest and I breath a sigh of extreme relief. A scorpion bite is the last thing I need at the moment.

Rising, I test my legs with my weight and find the fall didn’t hurt them. My butt and back are another story. I pull on the side of my white polo and twist around to get a better look. Nothing on my body. But my new shirt is another story. This one has only taken hours to ruin. Not exactly a record—but close.

“Is anyone there?” I call to the void above me. Not sure what I expect to hear, my heart falls a little when I’m greeted by silence.

Hasn’t anyone noticed I’m missing?

A flash of memory. The others leaving me behind as I stagger along across the rocky terrain. I’m not exactly dressed for mountain climbing with good reason. Rachel failed to tell me exactly what we’d be doing when she called last night. The only thing I’d really even heard was that Coy would be there and I agreed to meet her in the parking lot of my apartment at seven.

As the trek continued, I grew more and more frustrated with my friends. Their heads thrown back in laughter, I silently scowled at their backs, until Coy turned and caught my eye.

His half smile had melted my heart long ago, but I wasn’t surprised when I felt it pool at my feet again. I grinned back and in the process, tripped. Without warning, his strong hands gripped my arm as he saved me from planting my face into the yellow flowers of a prickly pear.

I straightened and found myself staring into his warm brown eyes, only inches away, breathing in his sweat-laced cologne.

A noise jars me from the memory and I instinctively crouch lower to the ground. As I turn to the noise, I bite my lip to keep from crying out in pain. Something is messed up. I’ve never had back pain like this before and I almost forget the sound. My imagination runs wild and I even envision a mountain lion prowling through the steep red walls of the cave.

I hold my breath for what seems like hours and only release it when I know the noise has stopped and force myself to straighten.

Surprising myself, I step forward to the dark corner of my prison. I know I’ll never get out unless I look for a way. Though after just hearing that…

As I come closer to a wall of rock, another light plays on the floor in the distance. Renewed hope bounces off the edges of my mind filling me with total confidence that everything will be fine. I walk closer to the light boldly now—a new vigor in my step.

And then I freeze. This sound is quite different from before. Male voices. At first, I move to speak—call out and let them know I’m safe. But the tenor of the words has the opposite effect. I clamp my lips shut; now sure, I’ll never see my friends again.

They argue about their next move and I determine there are two. My body presses into the wall–I hang on to every word in case they somehow know I’m here.

“Just grab his legs and let’s get out of here. This place freaks me out.”

“Hold on, let me get a good grip.”

I realize they discuss carrying someone and I hear the footsteps shuffle off in the opposite direction. My curiosity wins out and I peer around the corner. The man they carry is clearly unconscious, his head lolled over onto his chest.

My brain reels as I see the brown hiking boots planted on a rock before my eyes. I am just seconds away from eating that prickly pear cactus.

The same boots are now being carted off toward another dark corner.

They have Coy.

[Reply]

Here I sit in the mouth of a giant.

You know what? It sucks. I have no way of getting out of here… I don’t even know how I got here. All I do know is his tongue is scratchy and his breath–

Let me just tell you about his breath. If two babboon asses were to mate and produce a baby– it would smell better than the giant’s breath.

What does he eat anyway?

[Reply]

I sat on the rocky riverbed looking up. How the hell would I make it out of this? Showing off for Payton had to be in the top ten of stupid things to do. The girl never gave anyone a shot anyway, yet every boy in school still tried.

And for what?

I closed my eyes and pictured the tease of her rock hard abs when she raised her hand in class. Imagining her flipping her golden blond hair over her shoulder. Watching a pout form on her perfect red lips when she didn’t know the answer. Blush seep up her cheeks when she caught me looking at her.

With most guys, she just rolled her eyes and looked away, but she smiled at me. So what possessed me to jump the crevice? No clue. Okay, lie. Her. I’d overheard her saying that she’d seen a movie when this guy stole his dad’s motorcycle and jumped a cranny. She’d thought it was hot.

Which brings me back to my current situation.

Dad’s bike. Crashed.

Me. Stuck.

Fortunately, I landed on a ledge only fifteen feet or so from the top. Problem. There’s another fifty-plus foot drop to my side, and the lips of the fissure curve inwards, making it impossible for a novice climber like myself to get out.

Now, I know what you’re thinking, why didn’t I bring someone with me?

I did.

When he realized I was still alive, he walked back to town for help. Town being twelve miles away. Maybe we shouldn’t have both ridden out on Dad’s Ninja. The one that didn’t make the ledge. The one that traveled the fifty-plus feet further down.

Oh, hell. I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have attempted the feet in the first place. Maybe trying to jump–long wise–the twenty or so feet, would have been better left to someone that had jumped a motorcycle before. And, as my best friend John so eloquently put it, after I fell, maybe it would’ve been best had I used a lighter bike.

Even if I got out of this alive. I was dead. Dad would see to that. And I had a feeling Mom would just stand back and watch. She’d bought the bike for him last month for his birthday.

[Reply]

Wow Jamie! I love it. Why do I always have to be so serious… And I love yours too Sarah!

[Reply]

Finals.

I was not going to worry about finals until after Spring break.

I had to keep telling myself this as we explored the vast cavernous trails of Zion’s National Park.

I loved to look up as we walked through the winding, red sand trails. Look strait up the cliff side and see the blue sky while being sheltered from the desert sun, feeling the cool breeze that blows gently around us. I loved this area of America.

Even with the thrill of being here with the best friends, and boyfriend I have ever had I couldn’t help but stress about my finals. Mr. Lambert was so brutal and I needed to pass his class to get into the program.

Okay, stop thinking about it Lisa. Enjoy your surroundings.

“Lisa, hey stop thinking of your finals! Come on brainiac, we came here to get the stress off your shoulders, not let you carry it around with you.”

“I swear you can read my thoughts.” How does Rachelle do that?

A hand rubbed my head messing up my ponytail. I smacked Darrin’s hand away,
“We can read you like a book. Lis you just have to let it go for the weekend.”

Darrin pulled me into a kiss and held me tight. This is kind of romantic I thought. Well, it might be even more romantic if Rachelle wasn’t here, but I’ll take it.

We could hear Rachelle make gagging noises so decided to be polite.

“Rach, when are you going to get your self someone to bring down here so that we can make those beautiful noises at you?”

She gave her half smile with the evil eye at me and began to walk on up the trail. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought that up. She could read me, but I was not a good reader. I think I hurt her feelings.

[Reply]

TrackBack URI

Leave a comment
Line and paragraph breaks automatic, e-mail address never displayed, HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>

(required)

(required)


CommentLuv badge





To contact the girls, please email us ifyougiveagirl@gmail.com

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Categories

Archives

Sarah's Tweet

Jamie's Tweet

Eden's Tweet

Marybeth's Tweet



RSS/XML

Subscribe to our Posts Via Email

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner

Authors


Uniball

Blogs We Love


© Copyright Notice: The written content here is subject to copyright. All posts belong to their author. Any comment added is property of the author of that comment. If you would like to borrow anything, just ask, and please give the author credit. Thanks!

Meta