This week's challenge from Terrible Minds was to write the end of a story. Here's the set up -
This challenge is a strange one. It came to me (IN A DREAM okay not really in a dream) and I thought, “Well, that’s a bit curious, innit?” So, I figured I’d float it, see who grabbed hold.
I want you to write the last 1000 words of a non-existent novel.
In other words: “the ending.”
Now, you can be a bit meta with this — the ending in your mind may be a tidying up, a denouement, or you may instead choose to write a climactic end moment before imaginarily closing the curtains.
Also, those 1000 words are a loose set of guidelines. Could be 500, could be 1500 — whatever you need.
So, get to writing, folks.
Mine is a little short of the mark, at only a few hundred words, but it was hard to decide how much to include. I decided on less.
Hans tapped the gauge again. Yes, the needle was dropping - slowly - but dropping . There was another sting, like a wasp, this time on his calf. Definitely out of reach.
He keyed his mike. "Vlad, do you see any more of these on the screen?"
He eyed the hatch, so near yet so far. It wouldn't be hard to retrieve him, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Maria was too big a wedge between them. He moved the joystick again. Nothing .
Hans could feel his heart beating faster, his breath shallow and quick. He just couldn't seem to get any air. He'd been lucky to pass his physical - he'd had to pull in a lot of favours to bend the rules as it was. He couldn't bear the idea of finishing out his years sitting in a retirement home. He tried moving an arm - at least the suit was more flexible now. He fumbled for a patch then lifted his leg - nope - still couldn't reach the latest leak.
Even that effort had exhausted him. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, listening to his breath loud in the helmet.
He felt the cold creeping in, nibbling at his toes and fingers. As his slow rotation brought their vessel back into view he noticed it had been hit too. A wiring harness swung loose by the aft strut, part of the life support systems. Vlad should probably be warned so that he could come out and repair it before it was too late.
Or not. He felt a sudden surge of anger.
"Vlad, screw you!"
Still no response, but he thought he saw movement at the window. Hans slowly raised his right hand toward the ship, then bent down all fingers except the middle one. He smiled at the effect. Hopefully it would be the last thing Vlad saw, as Hans rotated against the backdrop of stars. With a smile he closed his eyes, to let sleep finish off his last journey.