Day 91 Ruminating And Writing

Dog

The small dog hurried down the street. She was running after it. It had gone all wrong. She should have approached it with a sausage or something rather than trying to catch it like this. The dog made a sharp turn into an alley. She sped up her strike and dashed into the alley. Despite her best effort, the dog was gone. She stopped to gaze at the alley, and when she was sure it was nowhere to be seen, she let herself lean on her knees and pant.

This was her third time trying to catch the dog. The last two had gone better.

When she got her breath back, she walked down the alley, looking for any signs that might lead her to the dog. There was nothing to tell her that the dog lived there. She continued down the alley, which stretched far. Farther than it should. She frowned and glanced behind her. Where she had come from seemed to edge into the unknown.

She tested her forehead and it didn’t feel hot. She continued forward, but the alley never stopped. She turned around to head back, but the brick walls towering over her stretched farther and farther.

She let out a cry. It had wanted to come out ever since she got there. It was a pitiful cry, stifled by all the years of being taught that lady never made a sound. She was to hold her poise and tongue. Now, she couldn’t be bothered. When she was done screaming her lungs out and her voice rasped, she sat on the spot, shifting her attention from one end to another. There was nothing to anchor her in reality. There was just blazing light on both sides as if the sun was scorching hot.

She replied with the logic her governess had taught her. This was not a typical street. This was enchantment. The dog was not there, so there had to be a way out of the enchantment. She only had to figure out what. But how could she figure out something from nothing? There were only the brick walls. No ladders. No trash. Nothing.

But there had to be something. She stood up. She walked to the brick wall, half expecting it to flee her, too. She smoothed her fingers on the lines, on the bricks, walking along them. When the side she had chosen first came empty, she used the poise she had been taught and changed the side without losing her temper. It took all her will not to cry again—the bricks on the other side were the same. But there was a small notch on the seam that looked a lot like a seal. She stared at the notch. The seal waved at her. She waved back at it, staring intently at it. She took a step back as the seal began to grow bigger and bigger, and suddenly it disappeared, and there was a door on the wall.

She reached for the door handle and pulled the door open. The dog stood there. “Welcome,” it said. “We have been expecting you.”

New Country

This prompt was about a girl moving to the USA and not knowing the language, and enrolling in school. I’m not writing this one partly because the dog story ran long, and mostly because writing hurts my wrist.

Viking And Hermit

The same goes with this one. It hurts to type. I don’t seem to find a good position for my wrist. It was a lot better this morning, but then I did the strengthening exercises, and it aggravated it.

The Prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.

I hope my wrist gets better soon. I end this here without too much extra writing.

Thank you for reading! Have a pleasant day ❤