Prompt 1: Two people are sitting together under the remains of a concrete bridge. Their backs are against a rusted bridge support. One person’s leg is cut. The other person has wet hair.
|(Source) Prompt 2|
|(Source) Prompt 3|
|(Source) Prompt 4|
|(Source) Prompt 5|
The bridge offered little protection from the elements, and already the Little One's hair was drenched; I'd cut my leg clambering past the metal bones of the bridge, attempting to reach the shelter of the overhang. As the water grew and swirled in the gulch below, trash accumulated in the swirling river and a lone white ball bobbed by, making Little One squirm to chase it. I held him tight, not trusting the water, the dangers that might lurk in the piles of refuse. Instead, I made shapes in the rain, drawing the drops into toys, fruit we only remembered the taste of, things long forgotten to me, but probably never known to Little One--the distraction was enough for me to ignore the throb from my cut, the groan of the bridge in the softening earth. At least he was laughing when the overhang gave way, showering us with concrete and cold rain, bright lights blooming behind my eyes.
Okay, that's under 200 words, and I definitely don't write dystopian :)
Please do stop by later today for my cover reveal for my book Colors Like Memories (due out in May), and an awesome contest for a book of your choice!!