© irene waters 2015
The conversation floated around Horry like swirls of mist. Some came at him thick and fast. Too fast for him to make sense of. Others came slower allowing time to respond. Slowly, deliberately he managed a few words before the fog rolled in again. Mute, head hurting, he saw them stare, willing him to make another sound. Increasingly less time passed before they started chatting to each other. If only this cloud fogging his head would go. If only they would go.
” Leave.” Stunned, they obeyed his order
Catching snatches of conversation as they left, Horry smiled.
“demented”,
“disoriented”
In response to Charli’s prompt:
January 28, 2015 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about disorientation. A character could be lost in the maze of the mind or in a storm of unexpected traffic. What are the sounds? The sights? The smell? Explore the different ways confusion can be expressed and how it can create tension, provide relief or move a story forward.
Respond by February 3, 2015 to be included in the weekly compilation. Rules are here. All writers are welcome!
About Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
I began my working career as a reluctant potato peeler whilst waiting to commence my training as a student nurse. On completion I worked mainly in intensive care/coronary care; finishing my hospital career as clinical nurse educator in intensive care. A life changing period as a resort owner/manager on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu was followed by recovery time as a farmer at Bucca Wauka. Having discovered I was no farmer and vowing never again to own an animal bigger than myself I took on the Barrington General Store. Here we also ran a five star restaurant. Working the shop of a day 7am - 6pm followed by the restaurant until late was surprisingly more stressful than Tanna. On the sale we decided to retire and renovate our house with the help of a builder friend. Now believing we knew everything about building we set to constructing our own house. Just finished a coal mine decided to set up in our backyard. Definitely time to retire we moved to Queensland. I had been writing a manuscript for some time. In the desire to complete this I enrolled in a post grad certificate in creative Industries which I completed 2013. I followed this by doing a Master of Arts by research graduating in 2017. Now I live to write and write to live.
Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist) 
I have met these people.
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It is sad to see.
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It is 8.45 am. Time for the second coffee.
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Just noticed it is now 20 days later and probably many 2nd coffees later.
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That is a nightmare reality I hope I am spared from. Well done.
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I hope we are both spared Norah. Not a future that one wishes upon oneself.
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Or anyone for that matter! 🙂
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True
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I was captivated by the photo!
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That was taken around 4am in Hanoi. I couldn’t sleep and went for a wander through this park that was opposite. I felt quite safe as it was alive with people doing meditation, yoga, tai chi, playing table tennis. It was an incredible atmosphere. I think it was in the cool of the day and everyone started work from 6 onwards so they took advantage of the temperature to relax and have fun before a hot, hard day. The mist gave the whole thing a surreal atmosphere.
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There’s great interaction between setting and the character’s state of mind. The flash reads thick, like how it would feel to be so locked in such a state. Great writing!
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Thanks Charli, It must be so hard when you want to talk and there is a blockage that prevents the words flowing. It would be worse than writer’s block and so frustrating.
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You’ve beautifully captured the disorientation, Irene. As others have said, let’s hope we don’t get to experience too much of this for real.
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Thanks Anne. Keeping the fingers crossed.
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From the experience of a family member, some people realize they are trapped inside their mind. Fortunately, she escaped. Well-written and very realistic.
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Thank you. It must be hard to be trapped in your mind. Glad yours escaped. It must be a difficult place to be.
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She said it was hard because she knew what was going on, but had no control.
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She was lucky to get back.
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