- Story title
- A character name
- An object
- A line of dialogue
out of which I would craft a (possibly very) short story to be posted on this here blog. The first attempt is courtesy of a prompt from Selena - I’ll reveal the requirements at the end…
Off we go!
The Lost Strawberry
Character building. That’s always the term they use for stuff like this. Character building. As if the only way you’re ever going to have anything resembling character is by being lost, hungry, wet, cold and terrified. You know the sort of people who say that? People whose necks are thicker than their heads, that’s who.
Russell looked at his phone again. He knew that, without any charge, it was really just a bit of metal and plastic that he was now carrying around but there was still just that little part inside of him that hoped, just hoped, that it might magically start working again if he just left it long enough. That tactic hadn’t worked yet but, every few minutes, he still kept checking. The last thing he’d seen flash up on screen had been a text message from his sister saying, “OMG Russell where have you been??” before battery death ensued and it converted to a useless lump.
The wind sliced through the hollow he was crouched in. Russell pulled his coat tighter around him, shuddering a little as he did so. Of course he was in a situation like this. Stuck halfway up a bloody Welsh mountain with no means of contact and no real provisions and no proper gear. Of course. Things had always gone this way for him. From birth. No, wait, even from before birth.
He blamed his parents for that. They’d thought it was cute, going for the hyphenated name when they got married. Freddie Straw and Martine Berry. Oh yes, very cute. All fun and games until your one and only son spends his school life being teased for being a Straw-Berry. Russell had heard all the names but the nickname that had stuck had been Shortcake. He’d hated it but, after a while, had come to accept that this was the one that people were running with. He’d taken it on, he’d owned it, he’d made it his.
The only drawback with that was that it led him to get into, let’s say, “inadvisable” situations, largely in a determined effort to prove his masculinity. When your nickname’s Shortcake, you do whatever it takes to prove it wrong. You drink the bottle of extra hot chili sauce and don’t let on about the two days worth of rectal bleeding. You go home with the girl in the club that your mates suspect is a lady of the night and then have to explain to all of your subsequent sexual partners about the chlamydia. You let your mates pick where and what to tattoo you with and then endure the death stares from your aunt at your cousin’s wedding the next day (even though she’s clearly seen one of those before otherwise you wouldn't have a cousin). And you also let your mates convince you to walk to the top of the mountain and back to the pub before last orders called wearing just the clothes you’re standing in.
It had started pretty well and he’d actually made it to the top surprisingly easily. Russell was beginning to suspect that there was a lot less to this whole "going up mountains" lark than people made out. So he’d started making his way down and that was when the problem started. He’d been following the map on his phone but that was draining the battery at an alarming rate so he’d shut that off. Besides, it couldn’t be too tricky to get back. All he had to do was go down in the same direction as he went up and he’d be sat in the pub in no time. Simple. Except it was getting dark and it didn't look the same going down as it did coming up and, before Russell knew it, he was lost, lying in a small hollow and only wearing a singular shoe (if he was honest, he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to the other one; there had definitely been two earlier on).
Another quick check of the phone. Still dead. Alright then, options. Options, options, options. First option - stay here and wait til it got lighter. Pros - no more stumbling around in the dark getting lost. Cons - probably going to die of exposure overnight. OK, not ideal. Next. Second option - head on out in the direction you’re pretty convinced was down and hope you hit the pub. Pros - it works and you can have a pint in the warm. Cons - you get even more lost, fall over and injure yourself and either die from your injuries or exposure overnight. Or both.
Not exactly a great set of options then. On balance, though, if he was going to die (which did seem to be something of a possibility), Russell would rather it was doing something than doing nothing. He checked the laces on his remaining shoe, gave the phone one last hopeful but ultimately doomed check and set off in the direction he hoped was the right one. Somewhere out there was a pint with his name on it and Russell was determined that it would be claimed...
The Prompt
Here is what I had to work with courtesy of Selena:-
Title: The Lost Strawberry.
Character: Russell Straw-Berry
Object: A Singular Shoe.
Line Of Dialogue: OMG Russell where have you been??
No comments:
Post a Comment