Aquacorde
⟡ dig down, dig down ⟡
- 12,512
- Posts
- 19
- Years
- he/him
- Ankh-Morpork
- Seen yesterday
To Be The Light
for SWC 2023 - Lost
The world inhales with the rise of the sun and exhales with the fall; a measured breath, a reliable pattern, and the sole reference to time's passage known by the wandering hiker. Wild lands wake around him, silence breaking in waves, invigorated by the deep draw of fresh, dewy air. Without hesitation or pause, worn boots scuff small stones into the forested valley below, their owner pushing to crest the next ridge before steady rays burn away humid haze.
He had arrived exhausted. Six sunrises later, he's still unsure he'll ever be anything else.
Rolling foothills sprawl out before him. Lush and green under turn-of-the-season sun, hints of rocky trails climbing lazily into clear blue skies, and the hiker's fingers instinctively twitch for his camera. He clenches his fist against the automatic response and inhales with the world instead.
The earth orbits that which bathes it in steady, constant, and fundamental light. Since the planet's formation and until its destruction, this has been and will be the case. It knows no other way of being, and in no way can the world be blamed for taking what it has always been freely given.
Someday, the sun will burn out.
"Are you lost?"
The girl's sharp eyes have already cataloged his appearance, the hiker is sure. Boots muddy with the aftermath of yesterday's rain, clothes streaked with accumulated dirt and char, facial hair clearly well past due to be groomed- her reasoning certainly isn't flawed. What other logical conclusion could there be?
"I am," the hiker admits. He's not entirely sure why.
"Oh." She studies him carefully. "Well. Good luck, I suppose."
She's out of sight before he bursts out laughing, for the first time in a long time.
Three days later, the hiker is far more presentable- not that he intends to present himself to anyone. That's what being lost is all about, isn't it: only being beholden to yourself. Therefore, it is only his own standards that require him and his belongings to be thoroughly scrubbed in one of many freezing streams, only his own whims that direct his meandering hike, and only a coincidence that drives him directly into the path of a miniature avalanche. It is only his own subconscious reaction to immediately brace one arm around the trunk of a small tree, to catch the sliding figure around the waist, to drag it and shield it from harm.
Not until the clattering gravel falls silent does the hiker relax and allow the willowy person to squirm out of his hold. It's the same girl, that's as clear as her sky-blue eyes, even though her freckles are hidden by a light layer of dust and her braided brown hair is haphazardly decorated with twigs and leaves. She primly smooths out the wrinkles he's put in her dirt-streaked clothes.
"Are ya lost?" he teases.
The girl scoffs. "I could never be." And it's said with such decisive confidence that he must take it as truth, as unlikely as it may seem. "I assume you still are?"
The hiker shrugs, and the lack of weight in his backpack is suddenly very noticeable. "Guess so."
Her put-upon sigh is certainly unwarranted, considering that he's just saved her from a nasty spill down a mountain. "Follow me."
After so long spent in aimlessness, the girl's ruthless efficiency is refreshing. Almost as the crow flies, she forces her way through the wilderness, enduring steep climbs and braving dangerous slides to jump from trail to trail, always confident in her direction even when not consulting her comically large atlas. Not for the first time, he wonders what she is doing out here. She's certainly no park ranger, and is hardly dressed like a serious hiker- aside from the worthy backpack secured to her slim frame. And yet she walks the mountains alone, for days at a time, daring nature to challenge her. He nearly asks- twice, three times, and yet-
They have not even exchanged names. His own reluctance is rooted in his very reason for being out here in the first place. Hers- who knows? The few assumptions he can make do not hint at her thoughts. She is just a girl, and he is just a man, a guide and a follower, and that is all they will be. There is no need for stories, for questions, for familiarity. They need only be bound by proximity and practicality.
Curiosity sinking its teeth into the back of his mind is a sharp and forgotten sensation.
The world exhales in its predictable tune, cuing the exuberant melody of daytime wildlife to settle into a low, droning murmur. Camp is made, ingredients are pooled, dinner is eaten. And the hiker- one who can either be still or silent but not both- attempts to engage the girl, and the girl lowers her shield just enough to allow pleasant conversation to flow under the vast, starry sky.
A trail marker is the first sign.
Then a small shelter, with an old map pinned between plexiglass panes.
Finally, the trading post itself peeks out from the trees, log construction allowing it to blend as best a horizontally crafted structure can in a land that stretches vertically. The girl's smug satisfaction radiates, even as she halts her approach.
"Well, there you have it."
"Yeah."
They stand in silence for a moment, contemplating the building that passes for civilization.
"Well," the girl says again. "I suppose I'll be going."
The hiker frowns his confusion. "What?"
Her arms cross protectively in front of her and her chin juts up and away in defiance. "I don't want- need- to go back yet."
Huh.
A slow, rusty smile breaks over his face. "Alright. Good luck to ya, then. Appreciate the assist!"
"Sure." Her suspicious glare only makes his grin stretch wider. "Goodbye."
The universe delights in coincidences, he is certain. Why else would he have met her again? He's humming cheerfully by the time he pushes open the trading post's doors, and the realization prompts the tune to fade from his lips. Yet another forgotten expression. How many have fallen to the wayside?
The dinky shop shelters one employee and one other customer, neither of whom seem inclined to make conversation. Blinking away a small and unexpected flash of disappointment, the lonely hiker busies himself examining what is on offer. The provisions for sale are not particularly inspiring and that, for some reason, is the catalyst for reconsideration. It encourages a halting unzip of a small backpack pocket, inspires him to dare hold down a button and wait, fingers drumming nervously against his long-ignored phone. Immediately upon chiming to life the device explodes into a frenzy of sound, notifications rolling across the screen at the speed of decent cellular service. He desperately jams his fingers into the power button, and the thing quickly, thankfully, shuts down.
The hiker exhales a slow breath.
Until he finds his footing once again, uninspiring food will have to do.
He had arrived exhausted. Six sunrises later, he's still unsure he'll ever be anything else.
Rolling foothills sprawl out before him. Lush and green under turn-of-the-season sun, hints of rocky trails climbing lazily into clear blue skies, and the hiker's fingers instinctively twitch for his camera. He clenches his fist against the automatic response and inhales with the world instead.
The earth orbits that which bathes it in steady, constant, and fundamental light. Since the planet's formation and until its destruction, this has been and will be the case. It knows no other way of being, and in no way can the world be blamed for taking what it has always been freely given.
Someday, the sun will burn out.
"Are you lost?"
The girl's sharp eyes have already cataloged his appearance, the hiker is sure. Boots muddy with the aftermath of yesterday's rain, clothes streaked with accumulated dirt and char, facial hair clearly well past due to be groomed- her reasoning certainly isn't flawed. What other logical conclusion could there be?
"I am," the hiker admits. He's not entirely sure why.
"Oh." She studies him carefully. "Well. Good luck, I suppose."
She's out of sight before he bursts out laughing, for the first time in a long time.
Three days later, the hiker is far more presentable- not that he intends to present himself to anyone. That's what being lost is all about, isn't it: only being beholden to yourself. Therefore, it is only his own standards that require him and his belongings to be thoroughly scrubbed in one of many freezing streams, only his own whims that direct his meandering hike, and only a coincidence that drives him directly into the path of a miniature avalanche. It is only his own subconscious reaction to immediately brace one arm around the trunk of a small tree, to catch the sliding figure around the waist, to drag it and shield it from harm.
Not until the clattering gravel falls silent does the hiker relax and allow the willowy person to squirm out of his hold. It's the same girl, that's as clear as her sky-blue eyes, even though her freckles are hidden by a light layer of dust and her braided brown hair is haphazardly decorated with twigs and leaves. She primly smooths out the wrinkles he's put in her dirt-streaked clothes.
"Are ya lost?" he teases.
The girl scoffs. "I could never be." And it's said with such decisive confidence that he must take it as truth, as unlikely as it may seem. "I assume you still are?"
The hiker shrugs, and the lack of weight in his backpack is suddenly very noticeable. "Guess so."
Her put-upon sigh is certainly unwarranted, considering that he's just saved her from a nasty spill down a mountain. "Follow me."
After so long spent in aimlessness, the girl's ruthless efficiency is refreshing. Almost as the crow flies, she forces her way through the wilderness, enduring steep climbs and braving dangerous slides to jump from trail to trail, always confident in her direction even when not consulting her comically large atlas. Not for the first time, he wonders what she is doing out here. She's certainly no park ranger, and is hardly dressed like a serious hiker- aside from the worthy backpack secured to her slim frame. And yet she walks the mountains alone, for days at a time, daring nature to challenge her. He nearly asks- twice, three times, and yet-
They have not even exchanged names. His own reluctance is rooted in his very reason for being out here in the first place. Hers- who knows? The few assumptions he can make do not hint at her thoughts. She is just a girl, and he is just a man, a guide and a follower, and that is all they will be. There is no need for stories, for questions, for familiarity. They need only be bound by proximity and practicality.
Curiosity sinking its teeth into the back of his mind is a sharp and forgotten sensation.
The world exhales in its predictable tune, cuing the exuberant melody of daytime wildlife to settle into a low, droning murmur. Camp is made, ingredients are pooled, dinner is eaten. And the hiker- one who can either be still or silent but not both- attempts to engage the girl, and the girl lowers her shield just enough to allow pleasant conversation to flow under the vast, starry sky.
A trail marker is the first sign.
Then a small shelter, with an old map pinned between plexiglass panes.
Finally, the trading post itself peeks out from the trees, log construction allowing it to blend as best a horizontally crafted structure can in a land that stretches vertically. The girl's smug satisfaction radiates, even as she halts her approach.
"Well, there you have it."
"Yeah."
They stand in silence for a moment, contemplating the building that passes for civilization.
"Well," the girl says again. "I suppose I'll be going."
The hiker frowns his confusion. "What?"
Her arms cross protectively in front of her and her chin juts up and away in defiance. "I don't want- need- to go back yet."
Huh.
A slow, rusty smile breaks over his face. "Alright. Good luck to ya, then. Appreciate the assist!"
"Sure." Her suspicious glare only makes his grin stretch wider. "Goodbye."
The universe delights in coincidences, he is certain. Why else would he have met her again? He's humming cheerfully by the time he pushes open the trading post's doors, and the realization prompts the tune to fade from his lips. Yet another forgotten expression. How many have fallen to the wayside?
The dinky shop shelters one employee and one other customer, neither of whom seem inclined to make conversation. Blinking away a small and unexpected flash of disappointment, the lonely hiker busies himself examining what is on offer. The provisions for sale are not particularly inspiring and that, for some reason, is the catalyst for reconsideration. It encourages a halting unzip of a small backpack pocket, inspires him to dare hold down a button and wait, fingers drumming nervously against his long-ignored phone. Immediately upon chiming to life the device explodes into a frenzy of sound, notifications rolling across the screen at the speed of decent cellular service. He desperately jams his fingers into the power button, and the thing quickly, thankfully, shuts down.
The hiker exhales a slow breath.
Until he finds his footing once again, uninspiring food will have to do.
hi! this was for gt 2023's small writing competition. the prompt was "lost". this placed first with a score of 82 out of 90. honestly shocked.
judges' comments & scores:
Bay
Spelling/Grammar: 10. Character/Plot/Desc: 9. Prompt Relevance: 10
"I do enjoy the lovely description of the scenery here, which is the strongest point of this piece. The encounters between the hiker and girl was sweet, and their departure was bittersweet."
bobandbill
Spelling/Grammar: 10. Character/Plot/Desc: 8. Prompt Relevance: 8
"The description was the shining point of the story, and I also liked the hiker's character. I also didn't spot any issues with spelling nor grammar, so nicely done there. I do feel some other stories used the prompt a bit more inventively and closer than you had, and the ending scene felt a tad disjointed to me from the rest - i'm not quite sure on the conclusion to be drawn on from it, personally."
gimmepie
Spelling/Grammar: 10. Character/Plot/Desc: 9. Prompt Relevance: 8
"As always, a very well-written story. Certainly one that held me captivated. You did an excellent with your imagery, conjuring a crystal clear picture of the setting in my mind. You did a similar job with the characters. Both the hiker and the girl felt well-developed for the short time we get to know them - often through the things left unsaid rather that written explicitly, which is not easy to do. I got a clear vibe from the story and could see what you were going for. That being said, to me, it did feel less like the characters were lost in some ways than actively fleeing."
thanks yall :) i really appreciate the compliments to my imagery and description; those are the points i often feel are my weakest. marcin and gp, you called me out for exactly what i called myself out on as i was submitting- as much as it was meant to be an inconclusive ending, it did not hammer home as much as it should have that these characters are running away, in a sense, because they are lost in life. just wasnt quite accentuated enough. but thats okay! at only a couple hours out from the deadline, i was done fussin with it.
i will be linking other entries here as they are posted!
Journey to the Center of Poopoo Island by 5qwerty
Lost & Found by Groc [third place!]
The Enchanted Maze by Celèste
Owed Return by Venia Silente
Edith by Juno [second place!]
also yknow what ive done four of these now. heres the ones from prior years
Time [2022]
caged [2021]
Home [2020]
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