And so we roll into Friday. The last prompt of the week awaits. Are you ready for it? I am, so without any further ado, let’s get to it. Pens, keyboards, crayons or other writing tools at the ready? Timer set for fifteen? Then Forward into the abyss we go…
Last night I fell asleep watching a survival documentary style show. I’m pretty sure that’s where this came from. No idea where it is going, but I started to get an idea towards the end.
Friday, April 22nd: The scent of sulfur was strong.
The scent of Sulphur was strong. Doug backed away from the pool. He sat back and thought about it. He remembered the Sulphur smell from high school. There had been a problem with his town’s water supply and for a couple of weeks all the water smelled of Sulphur. He remembered lugging palettes of water home and using it to drink and cook with. He remembered the staining of the toilet bowls and the scent of rotten eggs filling the house, permeating his clothes. He felt self-conscious, but as everyone else smelled the same, the feeling faded.
Their science teacher used it as a launching point for several lessons. They were among the few lessons that he remembered. They couldn’t drink the local water because the smell came from a disruption at the sewage plant. Doug thought back to those lessons, the smell of the spring helping to trigger the memories.
While water that smelled like sulfur wasn’t in itself bad to drink they had to watch out for contaminants. Doug looked around. There was nothing for miles. The trees were sparse, the ground dry and dusty. He knew he was several miles at least from the nearest town. ‘Which means it probably isn’t sewage.’
That thought was consoling. But then he remembered that drinking water with too much Sulphur could cause diarrhea and that could lead to dehydration.
‘And fighting dehydration is the reason I want the water in the first place,’ he reminded himself. He reached for the back pack. It was filled with water bottles and had a rolled blanket tied to the side. Two of the water bottles were empty, but the rest were still full. Doug decided not to risk it. He allowed himself a few minutes more of sitting and resting before pushing to his feet, leaving the pool without filling his two empty bottles. Hoping he wouldn’t regret it, Doug continued on.
The terrain grew rockier as he walked, the soil eroded by winds until bare rock poked through in ever larger sections. The trees became sparser and even though the ground looked level from his vantage point, his could feel the slow incline in his calf muscles. As the sun started to descend, lengthening the shadows, he decided he needed to make camp. He saw a rocky out crop, the stone scooped out to form a hollow on one side. It wasn’t big enough to be called a cave, but Doug figured it would be enough to shelter him for the night. He didn’t know what would emerge here once night fell and he preferred to have stone at his back so that he could at least be certain nothing was sneaking up on him.
Doug searched the spot for hidden dangers, half hoping he would find something so that he might gain more information about his surroundings. He was familiar with many different types of insects and snakes. He could identify a large array of spiders. While he wouldn’t welcome them into his bed roll, he seeing them could give him an idea of where he actually was at the moment. He wondered if the others were having as much trouble as he was or if he was the only one floundering about in the wild.
Ten til Midnight 