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.
Copyright Al Forbes
Click here to hear me read this 90-second story:
Snow Fall
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.
Sound Bite Fiction 
Poor bugger… He’s cooked in the snow for “shore” (before you think this is a typo)
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The snowball should do it. You seem to find new ways to kill yourself off. Good writing, C.E. 😀 — Suzanne
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Great cliffhanger….I imagine so many scenarios.
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Any clever escape ideas, Dawn, I’m piggin’ freezing here!
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LOL…you are such a card! 😉
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We get the feeling of desperation and then the hope of throwing the snowball – great stuff.
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Thank you, Sally.
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That was…unexpected. I am sure the elements were cowed…
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Laughing.
Great comment!
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Must admit, I’m in agreement with Al. Great tale all the same! 🙂
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Don’t agree with him, he ain’t the expert here, he is a southern softie!
And thank you.
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We have the softie snow, so I know more than those Scots.
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Such a good story! I could feel the hopelessness in the writer. The desperation was portrayed really well. It was more showing than telling, which is what I really admire. Wow. Just wow.
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Thank you very much, you have just made my day.
Big smiles here!
Please come back again.
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…and then you had a snowball fight. Excellent.
My story – One Winter’s Night
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Yeah, but no.
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Haha! Al is right, there is hope in the end of this piece. It’s the first thing I noticed. A snowballs chance in hell as they say, but hope. There isn’t that usually certainty and often calm acceptance of death or causing it. Nicely done CE and hugs for you.
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Don’t listen to Al, Amanda, he knows nuffink!
And where was those hugs when I was freezing to death?
Fair weather friend!
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Haha hugs always lol. Whenever you need.
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There is always hope. Sometimes it comes with the prefix of “no” but it is still there
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did the snow-ball work? beautifully wirtten
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Thank you, but can’t tell you, already used up my quota of words for this week.
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Very wintery indeed. I like the hurling snowball!
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I aimed it at Graham!
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Ouch!
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The throw must’ve worked, otherwise how could he tell us the story. Fun tale of despair and cold.
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Talked it into his phone, told it from beyond the grave.
Love your idea of fun!
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Reminds me of my ploughing through chest-high snow without a good sense of direction. At least I was still capable of moving cause my aim is terrible.
Chilling story if you’ll excuse the pun.
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Did you die too?
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Felt like it — made the last few feet in the arms of my former guardian angel. 🙂
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You capture the cold quite well. Something lonely about the hush of snow.
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I am a Scot, I understand cold.
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Maybe he’ll become an iceman, locked there for months until the thaw returns him to the world. Nice tale, C, told with your usualy assured hand 🙂
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I think your comment is more creative than my story, Lynn.
Don’t come back!
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Well, you only have youself to blame – I was responding to your fiction after all! 🙂
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Sorry, Lynn, the cold is making me crabbit!
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Haha! All taken in good heart, my dear, never fear. You wrap up warm now. 🙂
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I don’t see him getting out of there alive, unless he has a really good throw on him! Nicely done.
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Yep, he’s a gone goose.
Or a Snow Goose, maybe?
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It’s bleak and dark C.e.
Gut wrenching agony in white fear where hope hangs on to a snowball in hell.
Well done.
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Thank you, Em, but careful with the language please.
I already had to censor you in my next story!
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That’s a good excuse as any to chuck a snowball! I hope it manages to get seen without hitting the somebody in the face!
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Or they will stomp off in a huff!
Looks like there’s snow way out of this!
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Absolutely snow!
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Dear CE,
That’s going to have to be one hefty hurl if anyone’s going to see that snowball. This made me feel cold, wet and despairing. Well done.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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The hope is that the owners of the voices will see and wonder.
If not, don’t bother visiting next week!
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Bien écrit j’aime beaucoup ! Bisous 🙂
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Merci, Gys, bisous a toi aussi
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Bisous Brian 🙂
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Snowball fiiiiggghhhht!
Different from your usual style of having the protagonist in danger rather than one of their victims. I wonder which he will murder after he is rescued.
Good story as usual C.E.
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Laughing.
Aw, c’mon, Al, I don’t kill someone every week!
It isn’t a compulsion, I.can.fight.it.if.I concentr…
Ah, where’s my gun!
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Don’t fight it. It just makes it more difficult 😈
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