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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The following is a piece of writing submitted by Jonas on January 16, 2009

The Old Trail

It was a desolate place - lava streams, deadly gas clouds, and slow consuming black rock. And it was here the little girl stood silently. She said nothing just gazed at me from a distance. She was wearing a white night shirt that stretched to her bare feet. It gently swayed in the hot wind. And in one arm she clenched a pale brown teddy bear.

I couldn't believe my eyes the first time I spotted her. "Honey. This place is not safe." I tried to call out over the constant rumble of the earth. She didn't respond, just watched. I climbed over the warm black rocks to reach her.

"What are you doing out here? Are you alright?" I asked. I took a knee and looked into her face. Her eyes were a deep blue. She looked at me without expression and finally whispered, "You must return another way."

"It's alright honey. I've hiked this way for years." I pointed and looked to the west, to my familiar trail. "Now we better..." I turned back and she was gone. I was standing upon that black landscape alone.

"Wow. I must have gotten a whiff of some sulfur." I said to myself and gave a nervous chuckle. After a minute I headed back but not five steps later an enormous cracking sound slapped my ears and the ground shook me off my feet. Not far down the trail an underground lava flow came bursting to the surface, pushed its gasses and searing liquid rock into the air. After a moment the pressure was released and the deadly flow began to consume my old trail.

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