Picture this: a long corridor, cracked walls, old tile.
Maybe it’s a room with no windows, no lights. Nothing but brick and mortar.
I’ve been there before, brother. We all have—most of us, at least. One thing you’ve got to get straight now is that it’s all in your head.
No, no—hear me out. I’m being truthful: it is all in your head.
Let it go. Let the little stuff slide. It’s demolition day, baby. The clean-up crew’s coming. Pick up that old sledgehammer and start swinging.
Tear those walls down.
You’re gonna come out the other side.
Thanks so much for reading “Other Side” today.
I don’t often write such ambiguous pieces, but I wanted to experiment with structure and voice in this one. I also thought about layers and what’s potentially underneath a story’s surface.
So let me ask: what’s your interpretation of the story? In your mind, who is the narrator/speaker conversing with, and what’s the situation?
I’d love to hear your thoughts!
This Friday will mark a small but special milestone: our one-year celebration of hosting Fifties by the Fire. I say “our” because the prompts and the process couldn’t be done without the brilliant work of photographer John Lightle.
And all of you, of course!
Please be sure to check out Friday’s thread as we come together to read and write some fifties. I think you’ll enjoy our virtual stroll through time.
Speaking of which, please see our prompt below. The thread will go live on Friday, September 29, at 3:00 PM EST.
Take care, everyone. Have a great week!
Prompt: Write a fifty-word story (fiction, poem, or creative nonfiction) about the passage of time.
Excellent, Justin. It's good to be a little ambiguous sometimes. The intent is clear, although the exact circumstances are left to the imagination of the reader. I like the voice here--forceful yet kind.
I hear a person who has been through a tough spot trying to encourage someone else to come along without fear. The details don't really matter so much as the relationship and the confidence that it gets better.