Spookymilk Play With The Prose — Challenge #11: Blind

Can I build on the strong showing of the last Play with the Prose submission? Well, let’s find out! The eleventh challenge is to write a story in which the main character is blind, in 300 words or fewer.

I thought I could imagine a cloud, or something Neck craned back so that the muscles hurt No more than a cotton puff escaped from a medicine chest And I can’t see the sun today. Waves crash like a large, languid metronome Hot sand has me groping and stumbling on tiptoes Along with other midnight cat burglars On their beach vacations Claiming their towel-sized eminent domain Breeze and heat play a silent tug-of-war My shirt stays on, but open Sea birds dart about in the dark like bats along a tree line Or like men on stilts striding amidst the salty spray Behind an inky stage curtain A cotton ball cloud blows steadily towards the horizon But I can’t see the sun today I picture my plot of sand among fields of bikini beauties Charles Atlas on standby Waiting for the inevitably kicked sand While children wade the surf gathering captivating shells Digging deep below the coarse surface, I find China is a cool, damp place Particles between my nails And on greasy arms smelling like coconut and piña colada Unable to shield flying sand from a nearby Frisbee crash-landing (I think) I still can’t see the sun today Hidden in broad daylight behind the brim of my hat And layers of blackness In a cloud-free sky

Went for the unorthodox with this one — how did it fare? RESULTS

The judges’ comments:
K: I have railed on many entries that attempted poetry in this game, but this sure ain’t gonna be one of them. This has undeniable emotion and achieves its goal in a way that so many others in this site’s history have failed to do. The imagery is smart, the theme is catchy and even tosses in a Charles Atlas gag that doesn’t rip the reader out of the dramatic setting. GOLD

P: The unexpected continues. Damned if I don’t really like the poetry to this. The mental imagery lets me in on the poet’s world, and it’s beautiful in a sad sort of way the whole way through. BRONZE

Okay then! Here are the STANDINGS

• I was 2/3 into an uninspired space combat story (think the troop landing in Aliens 2) and wasn’t sure where/how to end it, when Spooky’s reminder email hinted that he was expecting fairly similar stories. That was just the spur I needed to shift direction.
• I’ve always wanted to try some free verse poetry, and I used “[In Just]” by e.e. cummings, and more specifically the song “This is How Men Cry” by Marc Jordan.

Next challenge, we’ll see who the new leader is…

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