The Flash Fiction Project at Google+ is at it again! There will be a visual prompt for every day in November (despite NaNo), and I'm going to try to write a (very) short piece for it every day as well. Due to time zone differences, I'll try writing and posting mine early in the morning, so it's a day after the original post for me, but still the same for them.
Let the fun begin! Here is the prompt for November 04:
Running from dead tree to dead tree, he made his way to the bridge, keeping his eyes open for adversaries. They could torture him as much as they liked, he would still always try to escape! There was nothing for him here, in hell - his place was with the living!
He ducked behind a barren rose bush, whose densely interwoven branches hid him just in time as a demon approached. It didn't see him, so he continued towards the bridge that led to the land of the living.
He hid again as he reached it, turning his head this way and that to ensure that nobody was near. He would have to cross a few yards of open ground, together with the steps leading up to the bridge. He would have to be fast.
Once he was sure that nobody was around, he sprinted towards the stairs, taking two steps at a time until he reached the arc that bridged the river of death. Gasping for breath, he pulled himself along the handrail, too afraid to stop before he was out of sight of the dead land. Finally, when he couldn't see it behind him any more, he stopped to recover.
A strong breeze tearing at his hair, he leaned against the rail and looked down at the noisy current, feeling pity for the bright shining souls that were swept up in it. They were being tossed this way and that, some white and some red; it was a disgusting spectacle.
Feeling better, his breath more regular, he continued over the bridge, crouching down at the end of it to make sure there was no sentinel before he reached the downward stairs, but the ground below him was empty. With a cry of joy he jumped down the steps, falling to his knees with his hands digging into the living earth on the other side. He had made it! He was free at last! Now he'd better hurry to get away from there.
A soft but firm hand was placed on his shoulder.
"Henry, my dear, what are you doing here? Are you all right? Didn't we teach you that you shouldn't cross the street? It's too dangerous in the state you're in! Come now, I'll bring you back to the home." Hands firmly helped him get up. "And sister Marge, she'll have to explain how you could escape from right under her nose! I bet she didn't make sure you were taking the right medication as well. It's just your and her luck that I was running some errands in town and found you before it was too late."