The sun shone through lace draped curtains, announcing the arrival of dawn. I instinctively turned my face away from it. A few more minutes of sleep shouldnt hurt, but my alarm had other plans. Almost on cue, It started ringing. I turned again, groaned and decided today would not be the day for extra sleep.
It was only as I sat upright on the bed that I noticed it. My hands were flexed at a 45 degree and my fingers were each positioned at an odd angle. I tried to extend my hand but felt a dull aching pain in reaction. They also appeared swollen.
The irrational part of me took over and i started thinking- the village witches have finally gotten to me; I should have prayed before going to bed last night. I worked myself into a nervous sweat, before the rational part of me kicked in to remind me- there was a reason doctors existed. Some parts of culture just never leave us, I sigh.
word count: 167. This story is in resoponse to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers photo prompt challenge. Thank you for this week’s image @artycaptures
I’ve actually had dreams of me hurting my hand, and when I wake up, my hand is sore. Your intriguing story reminded me of this.
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We always think irrationally and of the worst cause with these things. Hopefully the doctor has a simpler explanation.
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Great job!! Yes, the irrational part of our brain is so quick to take over, that would be me some of the time! 🙂
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Great story! There certainly is a reasons why doctors are with us! To fix the ailments we are sometimes cursed with!
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