I haven’t done a Flash Fiction Friday Challenge from Chuck Wendig in a while because…well…see previous post. However, this one is just too fun to pass up. It’s a written version of the game “Telephone”–One person writes 200 words of a story and links it to the challenge. Next week, we will pick someone ELSE’S story and add 200 words. For the next 5 Fridays, this will go on until a 1,000 word story is created. Seems like fun! Although, it was really difficult to stop at 200 words…
Marcel was certain that the pounding beast in his chest was audible to the entire city as he leaned, panting, against the wall of the alley. Just out of sight, back in the blistering sunlight, the city rumbled on; he could faintly hear the ding of a trolley and the clackety-clack as it thudded over the iron tracks and the intermittent sounds of a saxophonist hawking his street-corner jazz to the tourists. Marcel gulped in a mouthful of the heavy, still air, and slunk further into the shade. It was slightly cooler, but no less humid. New Orleans was seething in the heat, oozing the smell of baked concrete, creole cooking, and the faint tang of the murky Mississippi from every pore.
Marcel wiped the sweat off his face with the back of one shaking hand, noticing the way the moisture slicked his dark skin—like the flickering mirage off asphalt. He leaned over and vomited, the acidic contents of his nearly empty stomach splattering the alleyway. He coughed at the acrid taste of his own fluids and scooted down the wall, slouching down until he sat on the pavement. He gripped his head in his hands.
It’s all over.