Original fiction: The Ends
ghostingthespace asked: I want you to pick a song, and write something that matches the mood of that song. I don’t mean take the lyrics and make a story from them, I mean write in the same tone of the song. Make a story that feels the same as the song. What do you think? Can you do it?
I’m terrible at picking up lyrics, I can’t help myself, so I picked an instrumental song instead. This is the song I picked. It’s called The Ends by Basement Jaxx.
204 words
She ran, her chucks pounding the pavement as she tried to get away. She was sure she was going to wake someone yet the windows in all the houses remained dark. She took a sudden right and into a dark alleyway. It was probably not the best course of action but she had to get off the street, out of sight.
She paused to catch her breath and then shot down the alleyway. There was a wire fence at the end and she thanked whoever was watching it wasn’t wooden. She climbed, but when she made it over, her sweaty palms slipped on the cold metal and she fell flat on her back.
The wind was knocked out of her. She gasped and gasped, trying to fill her lungs again, trying to not panic, to not make a sound. When she saw lights flickering at the mouth of the alley she was up again. She tripped over her own feet but managed to push off the ground.
She had gravel embedded in her skin, a deep gash from her wrist across her thumb, but they were nothing compared to what would happen to her if those flash lights caught up with her.
She ran.
I’m terrible at picking up lyrics, I can’t help myself, so I picked an instrumental song instead. This is the song I picked. It’s called The Ends by Basement Jaxx.
204 words
She ran, her chucks pounding the pavement as she tried to get away. She was sure she was going to wake someone yet the windows in all the houses remained dark. She took a sudden right and into a dark alleyway. It was probably not the best course of action but she had to get off the street, out of sight.
She paused to catch her breath and then shot down the alleyway. There was a wire fence at the end and she thanked whoever was watching it wasn’t wooden. She climbed, but when she made it over, her sweaty palms slipped on the cold metal and she fell flat on her back.
The wind was knocked out of her. She gasped and gasped, trying to fill her lungs again, trying to not panic, to not make a sound. When she saw lights flickering at the mouth of the alley she was up again. She tripped over her own feet but managed to push off the ground.
She had gravel embedded in her skin, a deep gash from her wrist across her thumb, but they were nothing compared to what would happen to her if those flash lights caught up with her.
She ran.