The thrill of survival

I remember the darkness, the glitter of frost and carnivore eyes from depth of the woods. I remember how much the old apple tree’s branches resembled skeletal hands trying to catch me while running, I remember my desperate rush from the warmth of the house to the outhouse and how much I dreaded my needs before bedtime.

Now I sit in my comfort looking at darkness outside, missing my monsters. I miss being the hero of doing my doings while being alive. I miss the thrill of survival as if my shitting in comfort is being in part already dying.

Joining very late with some reflection of my childhood memories of going to the outhouse.

Friday Fictioneers is all about trying to find a story in an image and present this in 100 words. Rochelle hosts and set the example. Try it, it’s fun.



December 2, 2017

34 responses to “The thrill of survival

  1. That was an interesting one. Maybe you should try out for that show Survivor. Would love your thoughts on my new short called The Writers Block. Hope to see you there

  2. This brought back a lot of childhood imaginings. The places that our mind can take us when we are young. We are much more connected to the earth then, of course. It is sad that we seem to lose that connection – and everything that it stirs within us – with age and comfort … for it is a loss.

  3. Ah, that’s our Björn. Lyrical even in the small reflections. “… how much I dreaded my needs before bedtime.” I miss not visiting your blog more but when I do, no matter the subject, your talent with wonder always makes me sigh.

  4. As a very small child, living on a farm. I remember one day, there was a snake in the outhouse. Mother never made us go there again. I think she placed a little porcelain potty under the bed?

  5. Yes, one certainly feels more alive when exposed to the elements and external dangers both real and imagined. I especially liked the last line…very thought provoking.
    I’m alway’s late to Rochelle’s party: detoutetderien2015.wordpress.com/2017/12/03/tattered/

  6. missing my monsters Oh! Lovely. So I’m wondering if the subject is dying? already dead? or wishing they were? Perhaps I’m way off base. No matter. I loved where the prompt took you.

  7. Loved this. The longing for the mystery and adventures of youth even if they were created by yourself was palatable.

  8. Haha. I used an outhouse for several years. Dung a few as well.
    And almost stepped on a cobra running to one in the night last summer.
    But yes, out creature comforts do house break us a bit,
    and seem a lot less brave.

  9. I have to agree with Sandra. So worth the wait. I can totally understand why the outhouse was so far from the house… but man…

  10. You’ve written a fascinating and thought provoking story. You lament the replacement of the irrational terrors of childhood with the complacent comfort of maturity. You’ve written it persuasively. But when I started to think about it, I realised that actually the experience of irrational terrors as an adult is horrid. I suffered for several months from an anxiety disorder. The main symptom was feeling terrified – not of anything in particular, just generally terrified. It was extremely unpleasant and almost disabling. Fortunately it responded to treatment, and I no longer suffer from it.
    So 10/10 for the persuasive writing; less sure about your content! It was a good piece, Bjorn, and I’m glad you wrote it.

  11. Super philosophical story Bjorn. This piece could relate to so many aspects of life. I love that the terror of childhood created excitement and satisfaction of outwitting/surviving them and now as a staid adult, no longer with terrors that make life tingle with excitement – you may well be dying. Loved it.

  12. Oh, I love this Bjorn. This is one of my favourite pieces of your writing I’ve read. So clear and atmpsoheric and evocative. And that switch to the present. mournign the lost monsters, identifying their existence as adding something enriching to the narrator’s life. Adore it

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