This mini-flash comes in at a mere 419 words. The prompt was simply “March”. I specifically wanted to work on the feeling of the words, to create a flow and rhythm. Let me know how I did. 
Death March
There are exactly 514 steps between me and the end of my life. I know this because I’ve made the journey before. I’ve walked this path eleven times, once each month since my lover died. It is always the same. Only 514 steps until I must choose. This twelfth time, my choice will be different.
The moon is shining tonight. It is so bright that I can hardly bear to lift my eyes from the ground, yet even there its reflection twinkles back at me from the wet leaves on the path. It mocks me. I know this deep in my soul. The moon laughs merrily at the folly of the broken-hearted. It taunts with a keen-edged beam.
I watch my feet instead, counting each step. My bare toes sink into the mud, and the Earth holds me fast, begging me to travel no further. The force of grief is greater than the pull of the Mother and I break from the sucking ground.
I shed my jacket, determined to feel the moment. The bite of icy wind assaults my skin. It pushes me back, always back, toward the pain and endless solitude. I lean into it, fighting to gain ground against my bitter foe. This is my death march, and I will not be deterred tonight. With head lowered, I advance toward the enemy.
The air is changing. It is moist and clingy and filled with the stench of briny water. The ground falls away to a craggy bank. I hover on the edge of darkness while the chaos of the pounding waves taunts me. My journey has ended and my choice has begun.
Below, I see the torturous slide into his death. I feel the sharpness of the rocks as they tear into his skin. I hear the snap of breaking bones and I taste the agony of my lover’s last breath. One slip, one step, and my choice would be made.
I now know that tonight will not be different. My pilgrimage has been in vain. The pain below is somehow worse than that which haunts my days. Eleven times I have come to the same conclusion. Eleven times I have retreated, retraced 514 steps to the hell of daylight. I turn once more; ready to begin another journey home.
The icy wind must be tired of my constant indecision, for it gives one final thrust against my weary body. I slide quietly into the darkness; into my lover’s waiting arms. The choice has been made.
March 23rd, 2009 at 1:37 am
Wow!
I decided to read it tonight before I go to bed.
This was powerful (and, I am *so* glad you and I wrote of different types of death marches) and compelling.
My favourite part is: “Below, I see the torturous slide into his death. I feel the sharpness of the rocks as they tear into his skin. I hear the snap of breaking bones and I taste the agony of my lover’s last breath. One slip, one step, and my choice would be made.”
I can picture it and I can feel it.
And I really enjoy the weariness of the character and that Fate has decided to make the final choice, which was a nice twist at the end as I was expecting a comment on wondering how many more times the journey would be made and instead - boom, it was over.
Fantastic!
March 24th, 2009 at 1:02 am
Excellent description of everything. I felt I was walking right alongside your character. All the emotion was evident and well-described. I liked the almost distracted way the character describes what is going through her mind, almost as though she is trying to think of something other than the inevitable result. Good job.
March 24th, 2009 at 1:37 pm
I really, really like this. The pain is very vivid and anyone that’s suffered a loss can relate to the misery just continuing on can bring. I especially like that the MC knows exactly how many steps the death march is. Well done.
March 24th, 2009 at 7:06 pm
Whoa! This was really intense! So much so, that it’s difficult to read, coming from one’s own place of pain. The imagery was perfectly dreadful, and I mean that in the nicest way! Unrelieved darkness and despair! I loved the image of being held by the Mother, in her deep sucking embrace, attempting to hold the mc fast. And even what should have been a loving action has undertones of horror and humiliation. I have to say that my least favourite part was the end, which seemed to be a throwaway. Truly horrible would be having to come back again and again, year after year. Or she could somehow become infused by Joy! But the decision was only made by default, and I felt some of the power of the story slip away.
March 25th, 2009 at 4:42 pm
My favorite part is all of it. I fopund this to be very entertaining.
March 26th, 2009 at 12:36 am
I LOVED the opening lines of this - it’s the perfect hook, and the rest of the story doesn’t disappoint - this is really good.