Buried – 100 Word Story


“Ronnie?”

Her voice was hollow, blanketed and absorbed in the walls of their shared grave. Unsure if Ronnie heard, or if she’d even said the words at all, she called again, “Ronnie!” Blood pulsed through her ears.

“I’m here,” he replied, muffled.

She twisted her slender frame, forcing space between her hips and the packed snow. After a few more wiggles and jerks, her arms were free enough to dig at the red-flecked slush encasing her face.

“Can you move?” she asked, grimacing, able now to lift herself on her elbows.

Nothing.

“Ronnie!” Jessi shouted, as the next plow approached.


Photo by John Talbot (c) 2008
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2 Comments Add yours

  1. JC says:

    Thanks for liking my comment. I loved “Buried’. You can almost hear that snow plow!

    1. jtwilder says:

      Thank you, JC! I took a moment to visit your work too – you have a great writing voice – I look forward to having your work in my reader feed.

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