Peck. Peck. Peck. Poke. Poke. Poke. She could hardly move. The midday heat was burning her up. Lola had fallen asleep in a cornfield the night before. The cool air had lulled her into a deep sleep and she missed the sunrise.The chance to get a head start. Her two day journey to freedom was testing her endurance. Lola needed to get information to the Renewal Party about the enemy. And here she lay-prone-arms out, palms up in an offering. Peck. Peck. Peck. Poke. Poke. Poke. She opened one eye and then the other. The sun was blinding, making it difficult to see what the annoyance was. Something was tapping at both her hands. Lola tried to lift her head a bit. Even opening her mouth was impossible; it was dried shut. She began to wiggle her fingers and toes. Peck. Peck. Peck. Poke. Poke. Poke. It was getting worse. Her ears perked up at the sound of a swoosh landing at the left side of her body. Another swoosh on the right. Then the sound and pain of flesh being torn from her skin. Lola tried to scream but all that emerged was a raspy whisper in her throat. Rip. Peck. Poke. She rolled over into a fetal position still unsure as to the source of her pain and anguish. She rose on all fours and began to crawl out of the field. In her blurred vision she could see a forested patch. Then SWOOSH, SWOOSH once more. Turkey vultures! More were coming in for the kill. Except she wasn’t dead. Yet. They were poking and tearing at her back as she was slowly crawling out of the maze. Gaining strength, she began to lift herself into a crouch. And just when Lola was nearly back on two feet, she felt the icy end of the rifle in the center of her forehead. “Git yourself all the way up, woman. You ain’t goin nowhere.”
Once again, our dear Ms. Kellie Elmore presents us with a challenging and imaginative prompt for this week!
It’s high noon. Sun blazing. You awake in a field and birds are pecking
your skin… GO!