What happened to day 7?!?! Wow. It flew right by and I didn’t even notice. I worked from home yesterday and barely had time for a snack during the day. I certainly didn’t have the 10 minutes it takes to do these writing exercises. Today isn’t much different, but I’m forcing the time to be open to get this done. That’s how the writing life happens sometimes.
See here for my intro to what I’m doing this month. Check the bottom of the post for links to other people that are participating on their own blogs.
Five Random Words:
- no legs
- venom (not poison!)
- puncture wounds
- American Civil War
Creeping around the corner of the building, I peered into the dank alley. The stench of rot and decay flowed from the mouth and into the street. Piles of garbage, a stray cat, and no small amount of large city rats where the only things visible. A rusted fire escape hung at an odd angle above one overflowing dumpster.
Unsure I was supposed to be here, I checked the small slip of paper in my hand. The humidity and my near death grip on the paper had smeared the ink a bit, but I could still make out the lettering. I was between the abandoned bank and the old school barber shop. Right where the note told me to go.
I took deep breath to steel my nerves and immediately regretted the mouthful of ick and ooze flavoring that flooded my senses. After my gagging fit subsided, I pressed into the miasma.
After passing the overflowing dumpster, a cold sensation passed over my back. Before I could turn around, the cold turned to freezing, and an arm wrapped around my chest.
A harsh whisper froze me in my tracks, “You’re here for the bite, yes?”
Before I could decipher the strange accent, a sharp, frigid pain arced through my neck.