Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge presented by my old friend Al Forbes.
The idea is to write a short story (200 word max) inspired by what you see in his picture (below).
This week Al’s supposedly seasonal shot has me confused.
Good try, buddy, but here on the Côte d’Azur I am basking in brilliant sunshine, with not a hint of frost, far less ice or snow.
How I miss Scotland in December!
Click on this link to enter your tale, and to see what others have written.
Click here to hear me read this 90-second story:
Sometimes I am just stupid.
Skiing alone on a mountain I do not know, I see a group go off piste and follow at a distance.
I soon lose them in the trees, and get hopelessly lost.
Then I crash, painfully twisting a knee.
I find myself on the edge of a crevasse, with darkness falling.
My only direction is up, so I toil along as the cold starts to bite.
Exhausted by the deep wet snow, I collapse under an overhang.
I am not sure I have the strength to continue, but know I will not survive a night out here.
Then I hear voices above me.
I am all but frozen, and my injured joint has locked.
I find I cannot rise, and I cannot call out.
I reach up, shake a branch, causing a small snowfall.
The voices continue, unchanged.
I have one last hope.
I summon all my remaining strength, breathing deeply.
I roll onto my back, throw off my gloves.
With my numb hands I pack snow into a ball.
And hurl it into the night sky.