The Distant Land

We speed to the horizon like moths to a flame. We know what awaits us. We can choose to step out of the spiral at any moment. We do not. The landscape changes as we travel. We left the heart of an emerald and now find ourselves lost inside a stone of coal. It has been like this for the past week, but an ever moving glow in the distance tells us that change is possible. The maze we find ourselves in can only have so many dead-ends. Our greatest concern at this point is our rations. We have enough to last eighty-three days. Assuming all of us make it. My group consists of five people. Three ladies; two of us are guys. Our only potentially lethal incident happened two days ago when Margo, our group leader, nearly got taken out by a landmine when she went for a piss. For the most part the days and nights (well, everything is night nowadays) are really boring. We are on our bikes early each morning and stop only to eat somewhere during the middle of the day. Then we all nap before continuing until sundown. Without any light, the days drag on forever. We are all confused and I can tell I am not the only one who is physically and mentally weary. Jenny and Ashley argued during lunch today. About whether Mirchener or Holzstein was the better author. Margo had to eventually shut them up, and we all knew that signalled the beginning of our end. Thank God none of us are real friends.


7 thoughts on “The Distant Land

  1. Evelyn

    put in a situation like that, dont you think they automatically would become friends.
    Like trenches in a war…
    It felt weird that the narration said a girl went to piss. Isnt it weird that THAT would offend my female sensibilities? bwahahahahaha!

  2. Find an Outlet

    Hmmm…have been thinking about this story for a couple days. It’s almost like a video game. Or the vivid imaginations of the adventures of kids on bikes—but sentiments very unkid-like.

    Congrats on your record number of blog hits. It’s only going to get better from here!

    1. screen_scribbla Post author

      I know what you mean. When I reread it a day later, it felt like a mix between Tron (my impressions of the original, though I didn’t think of it when writing this) and Stephen King’s “Stand By Me”. At times, I seriously wonder where this stuff comes from.
      Thanks for stopping by and letting me know!

  3. sparrowsong

    That last sentence kinda punched me in the face. It says so much in so few words. I like it.


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