Writing Prompt

I participate in a writing group that meets Wednesday evenings. Time got away from me today and I missed the meeting. I am totally bummed. I really look forward to that weekly event.

When we meet, the leader of the group reads out a short prompt. The group members spend 3 to 5 minutes writing something incorporating the prompt, the pieces are shared, and we progress to the next prompt.

Writing prompts are also e-mailed once a week. Since I missed the meeting, let me see what I can do with the e-mailed prompt of: These are the things I remained silent about...

My fear of heights, my colorblindness and the torn ligament in my shoulder that had never healed properly. These are the things I remained silent about, the things I elected not to disclose on the personal information sheet. How was I to know that this year's summer scout camp was to include repelling down the face of a cliff? I couldn't possibly disclose the information now. Not here at the top of the mountain. The other guys in my patrol would think I was chicken. Refusing to look behind me,I allowed myself to be backed up to the edge of the rock where the undergrowth thinned to moss growing in crooked tendrils from the crevices in the stone. My left foot slipped on a thick patch of springy moss. The rope had not yet been fed through the metal rings on my harness. Falling backward, arms pinwheeling, I finally summoned the sense to grab for the rope. I grabbed with my right hand. It was my right shoulder that had never healed. The pain was like an electric shock. I hung there, parallel to to the ground a hundred feet below, one heel hooked on a crooked piece of stone and one failing hand clinging to a rope. It was then that I noticed the approaching string of clouds that looked like a herd of galloping horses. Maybe they would arrive in time to rescue me.

Before signing off, let me point out this is a fictional piece. There is absolutely no factual basis for the five minute story.