13 January 2024

This was a strange exercise trying to figure out if I could capture emotional snapshots of key scenes, and use that to tell a short story. I’m not super happy with how that succeeded, but I think it was good practice all the same.

1) It was an ordinary sort of town, the type you might find anywhere. Rural, quiet. The kind of place were things never really happened. The books loved these sorts of places; they could make things happen there, leave the audience wondering if it could happen to them, too. Of course, it never does.

Kids go to school. Parents go to work. The biggest threats in anyone’s lives are their ever-looming debts, but for the most part, even those feel far off and distant. Tomorrow’s problem. And only for adults. For a teenager, the scariest problem is if the guy or girl they like would ever like them back.

2) Then, an explosion. A burst of light and sound. Maybe distant, perhaps the classroom next door. Screams and panic. People rushing, shouting, pushing into each other. You have to get out. There has to be a way out!

Outside isn’t better. Rivers of people flood the streets. The current pushes everyone; young, old, small, large. No one can fight it. A little girl cowers in the corner; a hand reaches out, but the current pulls it away before it can reach her. More explosions ring out from behind.

3) Stunned silence fills the room. It’s plain, with cheap flooring and beige walls. A table and a handful of chairs are scattered around, occupied by a group of worn and weary fighters. All looking to you.