For almost a week in April or perhaps May – I had long lost track of the months by then – we ran out of food. The snow had melted but the cruel earth still refused to yield and no animals struggled in our traps.
I dreamt of Ute’s apple strudel as plump as a breast under a peasant’s blouse, and when I woke the phantom scent of cinnamon and pastry continued to tease me.
A mile from the cabin, we found a bed of heather that an insect had colonised, laying its grubs in gobs of spittle. My father and I ate them all.
***
This piece of writing was for the 100 word (or so) prompt for Madison Woods’ #Fridayfictioneers. I’d be very happy to receive comments and constructive feedback. Click here to read other people’s.
A difficult view of the future, echoing the destruction evident in the photo prompt. Luscious use of language to evoke the sensual aroma of apple strudel!
Thanks for the comments Jan. In my mind it wasn’t set in the future – but in some remote area that they can’t escape from. But it’s interesting to read it another way.
I enjoyed this Claire. Beautiful way to tell a gruesome story.
Thanks for visiting and your comments. Glad you enjoyed it.
From beautiful to grotesque…and desperate. Lovely.
Thanks for your comments. Glad you enjoyed it.
Lovely description of the Apple Strudel! And a suitably gruesome take on the prompt. Nicely done.
You’ve succesfully captured the desperation, and accompanying delusion, of hunger–good job.
Delusion – that’s a good way of describing the apple strudel dream. Thanks for visiting.
nicely done
Thanks!
Dear Claire,
There is an old saying that goes like this; “Hunger is the best sauce.” Your spare and spartan story illustrated this perfectly. Well done.
Aloha,
Doug
http://ironwoodwind.wordpress.com/2012/08/02/mcmurdo-countdown-objects-in-mirror/
Thanks Doug. I might use that in the longer piece. I’ll come and visit yours shortly.
I particularly liked your second paragraph. As mentioned above, you did a lovely job of telling a story of starvation. And believe me, I’d have to be starving to eat anything that looked like those things in the picture. Did you have to make the picture so big??? 🙂
I will work on making the picture smaller – it shocks me every time I see it. Agreed, only starvation would do it. Thanks for visiting
Gruesome but well written, and I guess hunger and the imagination can make anything easier to down. Scary thought. I didn’t add my story to the list this week cos it was not based on the pic. But if you have time: http://writersclubkl.wordpress.com/2012/08/03/friday-fictioneers-variation-pistachio-ice-cream/
Thanks for your comments Raina. I’ll come and take a look at your story shortly.
Lovely contrast between strudel image and the reality of this gross image. I am not sure I could eat something like this after dreaming of strudel, but then I’m sure hunger is one of the most primal urges and if its strong, then ….
Good piece!
cheers,
Lorelei
Oddly, I hadn’t deliberately juxtaposed the strudel and the bugs as two things to eat. It just happened. Thanks for pointing it out and visiting.
A gruesome story well told Claire.
Just shows what hunger will drive you to.
Thanks Mike. I would have to be very very hungry
I love the beautiful description of the strudel, conjuring sight and smell, and the equally evocative ‘gobs of spittle’. But I especially like the very spare and matter of fact closing sentence, ‘My father and I ate them all.’ Horrid.
Thanks Trudy. Did you have a go at this one?
I did. Thanks for recommending the site to me, I’ve had so many lovely comments, there is a great community here.
Wow, you make eating this mess seem even less appetising by setting it against the strudel. Good job!
I’m over at: http://elmowrites.wordpress.com/2012/08/03/friday-fiction-torment/
Thanks for the comments. I’ll take a look at yours.
Not a situation I’d want to be in. You did a great job of giving it that hopeless feel and then hit us with the ‘ewwwww’ factor
Thanks for your comments Carrie, and for visiting.
I’ll add my eeeeeew to the others. Good job of conveying desperation.
http://www.rochelle-wisoff.blogspot.com/2012/08/wild-life.html
Thank you for taking the time to critique my work Claire, it was very useful and much appreciated.
In the same spirit of constructive criticism, I spent a while looking over your story, which is pretty much word perfect as far as I can see, so I’ve mostly picked up on the impressions it made on me.
Such tiny things, feels like nit-picking, but here goes.
The whole piece conveys the state of mind of the pair very well, the sentences are mostly long, with little punctuation and that reads true for a weary, starving person who would probably speak in a tired monotone.
I did stumble slightly reading the opening line because of the ‘or perhaps’. I’m so used to seeing commas with those words, that I paused and then paused again at the hyphens, but maybe just me. I like the simple statement ‘we ran out of food’, it’s stark and to the point. One thing though, I had trouble picturing this ‘we’, because it is not clear until the end that they are father and child, or if the narrator is a boy or girl.
The description of the apple strudel is really beautiful, you can see it, smell it and almost taste it – the comparison with the peasant’s breast is just lovely, and this sentence has a wonderful, dream-like quality.
Bringing in the distance from the cabin in the last paragraph is inspired, conveying how far they have to travel to get food, which takes us back to their starving plight straight after the strudel image.
I could visualise the ‘bed of heather’, and the “grubs in gobs of spittle” (which was beautiful), but the word ‘colonised’ jarred slightly, it seemed a little clinical next to the other descriptions – perhaps intentionally?
And I just love the spare language of the last sentence. It’s a shock (in an ewww kind of way), and it’s the only short sentence. A wonderful ending.
All in all, your piece suggests at a lot of backstory, and has real depth – part of your larger work, I’m sure.
Thanks again for stopping by and reading my story.
(Anybody else reading this, please don’t think I’m being unkind, Claire was good enough to pop over to my story with a wonderful critique which must have taken a while, and which I was really grateful for.)
Thanks Trudy. That damn punctuation. You’re not the first person to mention it to me. I do struggle with it and find it difficult to see where it should go to make my writing read smoother. The last thing I want is for the reader to have to read things again because they haven’t understood it. And long sentences – that’s another thing I have to watch for. This is part of my longer story so that’s why I didn’t introduce the father and daughter (who about 10 at this point), but if I want this piece to stand alone I should have done so.
Your critique was really very helpful. Thanks again
I was reading her as a girl, even though you hadn’t said, something in the tone of the words, so the voice is spot on.