In The Dust

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

He had been stranded in a closed-in-cave for two years after running away from his master. But he would escape. Again.

Inspired by prompt: “create an imaginative text with a central voice that conveys hope or redemption”


Salty and slimy.

I lick my fingers, full from my lunch. "What a tasty worm."

I rub my hands in the sandy floor and wipe my hands on my torn pants.

Throwing myself on my stomach, I peak outside through the tiny gap in the rocks. I could faintly see the tree. Skinny and leafy. My beacon of hope.

Deftly, I put my mouth around the tiny hole for a faulty chance to breathe in a mouthful of fresh air. The dark humid musk of the closed-in cave warm in comparison to the brisk gaseous liquid filling my lungs.

 I roll onto my back, hitting my foot on the other side of the cave. It had been two years and my evil, back beating master had finally stopped looking for me so today was the day.
Day 730th. 
The day I'd become free.

I rubbed my hands together, preparing for the hard work. I started digging.


And sand...

and more sand...

I had dug a metre deep and I could feel the sand dug beneath my nails. I puffed and pushed my hands against my head with my elbows staked into my knees. Tired.


A sharp pain entered my shoulder. And then my foot. The roof was falling. Rock by rock. 
The ground started shaking, wildly waving its hands and shaking its feet like a lunatic.

"It must be an Earthquake, Jerkin." I whispered to myself, arms clasped tightly around my head. I hurried to a wall, clinging onto to it. 

For a moment, all I could hear in the coffin black cave was crumbling rocks crashing past my legs, head and shoulders. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the rush of air. Until there was silence.

Cautiously, I open my eyes.


Everything was bright.

Squinting I could faintly see rocks scattered around me through the light and the dust.

Like a god, the sun shone. Beating on my face with the heart beat of the cool wind. 

As the dust settled, the valley emerged far below with a dark jagged line running through the middle. A once familiar house-like prison of slavery stuck it's crusty claws out of the jagged abyss. The remnants toppered and tattled as with a last cough, the Earth swallowed it up. 

With shock and surprise I leap in circles, hands dancing with the clouds.

A shadow comes over me and I slow to a dizzying halt. My comforting tree atop of my little mountain. My hands extended in welcoming embrace, run to the tree, exclaiming to my friend. "I'm finally free."


Authors questions for reader:

Was this actually funny? Yes/No (probably not... I'm sorry)

What genre do you prefer?

Happy/ Sad books?

Submitted: May 17, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Ke’lta-nashia.17. All rights reserved.

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