The newest issue of Poets & Writers is on my desk, liberally underlined and already a little creased. Useful, as usual, and challenging. Of note is Grant Faulkner’s article “Imagination Under Pressure,” in which he recommends writing in sprints and in limited ways. Limited as in exactly a 100-word story. Gauntlet thrown, news article recalled, dream images accepted as prompt. Here’s my attempt at the shortest of short stories, exactly 100 words (not counting the title).
At sunrise, Ed awoke. As the forecast had promised, the air was biting cold—not so easy then to die of hypothermia. His bladder demanded relief, stomach rumbled, mouth felt like dryer lint. Poor Marcia had insisted he hike with his survival pack, now pillowed under his head, a water bottle, beside him in the sleeping bag. Body heat had prevented its freezing. The slip of water over his tongue reminded him of coffee, suggested one more day with hot, black coffee. Okay then. He would tie his Day-Glo scarf to a branch and let the search drone find him.