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Challenge of the Week
Alright, you brilliant beasts. To kick off the first $25 Weekly Challenge, we're keeping it easy and exact. Suuuure..... Most of us have been in this spot, asked the question, so we'll frame a setting. Here goes. You're on a first date with a person you met online. There's attraction there, but you're still trying to figure out if the chemistry is physical AND mental. The person across the table asks you what kind of writing you do, and when you give them a genre, they say, in one way or another, "Describe your writing to me." This week's challenge is to answer that question here. The winner will be decided by likes on this one.
eloysan
30 reads

Try Me

“It’s hard to fit my writing into a single genre. I just write what comes to mind, but I feel like it puts people off because it can be rather… weird," I said with a nervous smile.

“Try me. I love weird," she said, biting her lip a little.

I looked down and closed my eyes, sighed and looked up at her. She’s looking back with the smile and focus of someone who wants a taste of the real me. I want to give it to her, but I’m afraid I’ll drive her away like the rest of them. And yet, something about her seems different. Only one way to find out. “Ok," I start. “This is from something I’m still working on. Picture this…

“You’re standing in the middle of a desert; the biggest desert in the world. Sand dunes stretch to infinity at every turn. Nothing on you but your clothes and a canteen. You shake your canteen and feel the pathetic sloshing of the last teaspoon of water you’ll ever taste. You need to keep walking but can’t decide which way. The sun decides for you as its blistering rays dig deeper into your skin. So you walk.

And walk.

And walk.

You stop and wonder if you’ve been walking in circles this whole time. The wonder is short-lived and is replaced by a drowsy lethargy that leaves you with a burning desire to collapse. But you never do. Death would be too easy and anticlimactic for the gods. Instead they place a village before you.

You enter the village and find it bustling with children. There’s a fountain in the center of the village square shooting up heavy gushes of clearest, freshest water you’ve ever seen. Children are laughing and playing around the fountain. The adults are nearby, either working or socializing. Everyone clearly knows each other. They’re bound by something sacred, but what?

You walk slowly, not because you’re tired – although you are – but because you’re admiring what you’re seeing. When was the last time you’ve seen such a lively display of humanity? Or any humanity at all? You feel a tickling sensation on your face. Tears. Shedding profusely from your eyes. You fall on your knees and –"

“We’re fresh out of chili fries.” It was our waiter, Charles.

“Sorry, what?” I asked.

“We’re out of chili fries,” said Charles, a little louder this time. “Can I get you something else?”

“How are you out of – ok you know what? It’s fine. We’ll do the boneless wings,” I said.

“What kinda sauce.”

“Mild. The mildest you have, Charles. And can you bring us some more ketchup?”

“Sure,” said Charles. And he left.

“Sorry, where was I?” I asked.

“You got us nuggets?” She asked. I could see a faint grimace forming on her face.

“No, they’re boneless wings. Completely different from nuggets. Anyways…

“You fall on your knees and try to keep yourself up, but the weight of your fatigue bears down on you all at once. You give into it and let your body fall free-fall to the ground. And you black out.

Then you wake up with a smile you only make when you’ve had the deepest sleep a human has ever reached. Fragments of a blissful dream come in and out of focus: angels circling around you, singing hymns of a lost time. They take turns bending down to kiss you. Each peck feels sweet and warm on your skin as it delivers pulses of euphoria throughout your body that make you feel lighter and lighter. You hear giggles.

Your eyes open.

Four children are standing above you, happy as can be. There’s blood on their faces and torsos. The smallest one raises her bloody arms at the oldest one. He picks her up and carries her towards you. She opens her mouth and reveals a set of horrible, reddened fangs. Once she’s close enough her fangs protrude past her lips before clamping down on your face. You expect pain but are greeted with bliss instead. She shakes her head with rabid fervor until your nose is completely torn away. She chews it up and swallows. Then she laughs. And you laugh. They laugh.

“And we all laugh!”

I slammed my hand on the table so hard the room went quiet. Her look of concern turned into white fear as my giggles progressed to uncontrollable laughter. Charles comes back with my appetizer. He’s laughing so hard he almost falls over. He sets the plate down in the middle of the table and then he actually falls over. She looks down at the plate and nearly faints. Instead of boneless wings there was a steaming pile of human noses covered in ketchup. They’re rubber noses, of course, but she doesn’t know that. Soon the whole restaurant is laughing except for her. She slid out of her side of the booth, stepping over Charles, who’s shaking and frothing at the mouth. She ran out the entrance as fast as she could and I never heard from her again.

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