My First Writing Collaboration

collabowritersImage: Collabowriters

A few days ago, I found out I had been selected to be part of an interesting project designed by Collabowriters. From the hundreds of submissions, I was picked to join three other writers.

I was obviously ecstatic. After all, I was trained as an engineer—hadn’t even thought of writing anything creative before mid-2015. And to find out that I had been chosen from a pool of hundreds of writers to be in the top 4—suffice to say, I was thrilled.

But more than that, it was a kind of validation as a writer (my second validation—hopefully, I’ll be writing about the first pretty soon).

After a friend had notified me of the competition, I immediately went to work on my 250 word submission. I decided to go with an excerpt from my young adult fantasy, A Consuming Darkness.

And so, the winning excerpt:

Like a beast from Hades, the obese woman bellows. The earth rumbles in answer. Her bones quiver, and the flaps of her skin tremble in unison with the ground. I move away, but my grandmother, who I rode with on the back of an overlarge hyena, clasps my wrist.

Just as the sea parted for Moses, the land splits for the obese woman. Now I want to run, but my grandmother has the strength of a thousand men.

With the mound of earth gone, the starlight dances on the white and gold engraved coffin. The coffin’s cover violently breaks from its hinges. It hovers above the grave until the obese woman drops her hand. With the grace of a snowflake falling onto the packed earth, it gently glides to the ground.

The gaunt woman leaps into the coffin, with a sick and intense determination in her eyes. She steps on her dead sister’s chest with bone-crunching force and lifts up her lifeless arm by the wrist. She rips the arm off the corpse like she tears a page from a book.

She dangles it in front of her, with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes. To my horror, she bites a chunk out of the arm. As she chews the rotting flesh, the clotted blood reanimates and slides down the corners of her lips. She doesn’t allow it to drip to the ground. She brushes it with a graceful finger; a finger which she delicately kisses like a missed lover.

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