Powerful legs, legs charged by the spirit of youth, the longing to break free and simply run full pelt meaninglessly. These legs, this energy took her gambolling madly down to the bottom of Grandpa's garden to the summerhouse. Back at the town house, up his room was death, despair, disease and unbearable suffocating sadness and stifling stillness. Here outside was green; fresh wet green, distant roaring traffic - movement, life energy, freedom. Her lungs were full of cleaner cooler air and her hair pulled straight out behind her. Fresh air hair. She reached the summerhouse door and ran in.
'He's dead, Grandma. You finally did it.'


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RachCarter over 12 years ago

This was my first // I was scared // I can't type very much in six minutes! Rachel

Galen over 12 years ago

Love the ambiguous ending. Grandma finally did WHAT exactly? :D

DazedPuckBunny over 12 years ago

Great piece! I loved the energy of the child and the sharp last words. <33

RachCarter (joined over 12 years ago)
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I'm very dreamy. I write too slowly. I need motivating.

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Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
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