Writing Prompt

They call it the forgotten wastes, because most people have forgotten about it or wander in it unknownly and are never seen again.

It’s a place of past beauty and current horror. If you survive the breath choking fog that surrounds the empty desert, the creatures that lurk there are surely bound to devour you. They nameless horrors from the depths of hades itself.

Somehow if you aren’t devoured ...

Radioactive waste land to the horizon

Sandy dunes for miles

Decay of concrete buildings

Heat rays penetrate the surface

Scorched earth

Tornados of sand

Green yellow red bacteria moss cover the ground

Rocks erroded

corrosion rust forming on the surface

A lone Weathered skeletal tree stands in silence

Air feels heavy...

Down the back roads through small towns

And pastures laid out like a patchwork quilt.

Life couldn’t be simpler. Roll down the window and feel the chilling breeze.

The sun warms the leather seats while it shines through the trees. Look out the window and see the cows in the field laying lazily in the grass. See the horses running in the pastures, the lambs huddled under the shade of trees. Dri...

Our small white mini van drove with the sound of a drum. Every second we wasted was to kill time. At least that’s what we had said. But after diving from a bustling city of San Francisco to a rural countryside in the middle of nowhere, even Mama, the most optimistic person I had known, was starting to have her doubts.

Abby had been staring out the window for nearly an hour so I had a feeling she ...

Wow, Dad. You were right. This is so different from our little Bell Buckle, Tennessee! Like, night and day different. I feel like I can see forever out to the horizon, and at home I can only see to our neighbor’s yard.

I guess that’s not bad, tho. It does make home feel homey. I love our cozy back deck and all the trees that surround it. I love all the birds that fly in and out of our trees. Bird...

Sand whispers across the baron landscape, dancing into the hot air and twisting around itself dizzingly.

The sun, now low in the sky, has finished toasting the earth for another day and is setting the scene for a cold night during which only the haunting howl of coyotes and the melodic chirp of crickets will be heard echoing across the dunes and down through the canyons.

The skys will alight wi...

The sky was growing dark. White clouds turning grey with pinkish underbellies. The sky itself was turning red as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. Trees of luscious canopies shed long shadows and their colors dimmed in the falling light.

It was not long until the heavens turned black, but the stars were not to be seen. What few clouds there were shone like the grey scale of burning logs....

The sound of the gravel under their feet seems to recoil off the barren trees like a gong; the area being so silent it almost hurts. The air is so stagnant that they aren’t sure whether or not they’re even inhaling properly. The dryness stings their eyes as they try widening them to get a bettter look, realizing soon that there is no better look.

They appear to be entirely surrounded by lifeless...

The first thing I notice is the echo. There’s nothing in between me and my voice-not for hundreds of feet. Everything eventually bounces back to me, a little less than it was before. The second thing is the stillness. Stillness itself is not a strange or unusual thing. Plenty of things are still-lakes on a calm day, trees, houses, mountains. They don’t move for years and nobody gives it a thought...

In all directions there was nothing but desolation. The last bits of light were not giving way to much detail. A weathered two lane road ran through the middle of the desert. An unmaintained wire and post fence bracketed the road. Some old farmer may have ran cattle in the area long ago. The road seemed to lead nowhere in either direction. An ominous mountain range that could only be distinguished...