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.
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!