'Chasm' - Crisis Short Story

A short story based upon a crisis. Nothing special, let me know what you think guys!

After he lent on it, the cracks began to emerge, at first just allowing a handful of pebbles to break loose. But as he walked away deeper into the chasm the cracks began to emerge. Getting deeper and the rock began to creak as the opening began to get wider. He was still oblivious as to what was going to happen within a few moments. Unlike with a bullet, he would hear the crack of the rock that would kill him.

He bound down the valley, where he was going not even he knew. This was his year out, a time for adventure so he decided to discover the vast caves of Western America. This was the the fourth chasm he had delved into, he felt free there. The heat began to beat down, it was less imposing within the hole he found himself in, yet within moments the sun would become a distant memory and certainly the least of his troubles. The cracks began to emerge and the creaking seeped into his ears, he turned. This was the first sound he had heard for two hours and the sound of creaking rock was surely not a positive one. He turned back into the valley, had he gone to inspect then he would have been safe but he stepped further towards the cave mouth. An area the size of the rock he had just, without him knowing, set free.

It began to tumble. He heard it now, It broke free and began to bounce slowly towards him, by this time he had realised that the cave he was walking towards was non existent, and he found himself at a dead end, in all senses of the phrase. He began a frenzy searching for any way to escape his imminent death, he looked up to the sun with a look of despair etched onto his face. A face of a life that was about to end. A ledge was within reach he leaped to reach it and brushed it with his fingers. Hurling himself towards freedom his fingers gripped the edge of the rock shelf. He wasn't strong but his fear added weight to his muscle, allowing him to cling to the ledge with his feet dangling in the path of the rock. A tear fell.

Marcus Campbell - Character Development

The task was given to look at a selection of portraits and choose one. Then start to list some questions as if you were interviewing them, followed by the answers from the character's point of view. Then take what you have and create 800-1000 words of narrative either short story or a snippet of a longer narrative.
A note on these introductory tasks, they do appear mundane and a little silly almost, and I was cynical about them to begin with. But through these different tasks you get to know ways of beginning a narrative such as this one in which a portrait has literally painted a thousand (ish) words. So here we go, this is a snippet from a longer narrative of me just playing with character development hence the title is just the guys name....

Standing in front of the mirror, my hands are moving slower than they have before. I wouldn't mind if I was at home because there would be nothing to get to, but while I'm here I notice how slowly I'm going. The pain is there, its there now and it's always there.  I've always had pain in my life but the pain before came with success, I can see the scars as I shave the white whiskers away from my face, the ones I missed yesterday in the tired haze from stepping off the plane. The reminder of the pain brings me joy, but this new pain is too much.
Travelling through this country you get to places so much faster, it's all so much closer, I understand why she chose to come here and I'd be surprised if she didn't know everyone already. I do like it, sitting on the bus putting the odd shaped change, it's like proper money but feels so much more archaic.
They're all different, it isn't like being back home. It isn't a bad different but certainly not a good different. They smile different here, its strange, and they all smile the same. I don't have to say where I want to go when I get on the bus, I just put my money in and sit down. Flanked by a sea of smiles. False smiles, ones that don't quite belong. What are they hiding from me? I'm not sure being here is the right place to be. but that's what she wanted she wanted me here so I could see her moment in the spot light. I wonder if she was proud of me? She never saw me in my prime. Not when I was top class, I am proud. I am proud. She is graduating as a doctor. I'm just not sure why she chose England to do it though. There's a shaking in my leg, my phone is vibrating. Its that damned alarm again, they thought I was too stupid to be able to remember when to take my meds myself. I can barely even afford them it isn't like I'm going to miss out on them, its just a waste of money and i'm not stupid enough to throw all that away, not again, I've already lost enough.
I'm shuffling down the bus, the driver turns, there's no smile this time he just looks annoyed, I've seen annoyance, of course I have, but not  for something as trivial as walking down the bus. I used to get looks like that all the time, for making the coffee too strong or leaving the bacon on too long. I did try for her, I still do but it didn't help though, I just need to hope that something does work because I don't think I can cope with what's happening to me, the thing I hid from her so long. I don't think I can live with it without living with her.
I'm finally home, it feels good to be home and seeing this place in a new light. It's brighter and clearer. It isn't the only thing that is clearer, the rest of my life has been planned out in front of me. I was listening to the talk the dean gave at Laura's graduation ceremony, he said to always know what lies ahead of you and to make sure you know the next step you want to take. So that's what I've done, after I slept on the plane, well after I was woken up. By the large gentleman, as would be the political correct way to describe the monolith hurling peanuts down his neck chased by whiskey and chocolate. Which of course was drooled down my jacket.
I listed what I wanted to do before I die. As simple as that, so I have 50 things to do. They're written on the back of the photo I have of my daughter and me, she looks so beautiful, and I look so proud. Ill and proud. At least I manged to show how proud I was, because I was proud and it changed my life. The first thing on my list is to get Judy back, because without her then none of this is worth it at all. 
Tying my shoe laces, on the first day of the rest of my life I notice I'm doing something that I haven't done since I retired, I'm getting excited as I put on my shoes. It was when I felt the tension and now I felt it again, and I enjoyed it. I just need to start now. But where have I put my keys? Where did I turn out my pockets last night? This damn thing in my head blanks out moments of my life, that's why I want to do as much as I can, so I at least have something to be happy about when there's nothing left to cross off.

I know where the two most important things are, the first lock of my first daughter's hair, sealed in plastic in my wallet. Hair that has grown out, grown up and moved to somewhere better, somewhere that none of like to be reminded of. And the ring hanging from my neck that reminds me of what I have left behind.

So there we go hope you enjoyed please feel free to leave some comments below ANY criticism is awesome, Thanks guys

A Haiku

The rain comes down

            The wind then changes

A new start

Creative Writing Task - Article Prompt - 'Heist'

A bit of a different style to my last short story but using the same idea, looking at a headline and seeing where it took my pen. In the case of this article 'Woman dressed as Ninja Turtle robs motel' I decided, a decision made after the first few lines, that I was going to try to fit as many references to film (and some TV) as I could, whilst still maintaining a consistent narrative so here we go. See how many references you can notice, at last count there are 25+ things mentioned. 

Heist

Kawabunga!" That was Donatello's reaction to the ingenious plan which Master Splinter. (who was so wise, like a miniature Buddha covered in hair). Had hatched to take down Krang and his henchmen 'The Foot Clan'.
He had worked out that we needed to catch them while they slept in the local motel. No one had ever seen a more wretched hive of scum and villainy than stayed at the 'SLeEp-eAZY MOTEL'.
We would sneak in during the night evading the various nemesis' that frequented this joint. And certainly the guy that kept doing the same thing over and over again, with his Polaroid photos and writing all over his arms. Once there work out which of these rooms Krang and his gang were staying in. It was room '237' registered to a Mr Torrance, no doubt some ingenious pseudonym. April O'Neil wanted in, as always. We certainly didn't want her there so we tried to deter her by telling her she would have to dress as if she were one of us. It didn't work, she was eager as ever. We would have to think of something more embarrassing next time, like having to beat a ninja and big foot in a table tennis match. Or send her off to build a shrimp fishing empire. But you know "Shit happens" as they say.
The plan was already scuppered as we got there, some crazy guy with a air pressure gun, silently flipping a coin looking for a guy that hunted aliens with someone called the 'Fresh Prince'.
We began to meander our way around the motel halls, looking for this god forsaken room, to stop Krang in his master plan. We just didn't know what it was.
Splicing the door open, we confronted Krang and his men. In their shock and slumber they were no match for us. Krang a little harder to tame but April came in handy surprising him from behind and taking him in a Vulcan death grip. He stayed very much alive whimpering "Cleaver girl" the bastard knew he was trapped now.
We still had to work out what his plan was. Interrogation tactics began. We tried lasers expecting him to die in the process, but it didn't work. The ancient tactic of 'Ni' didn't work either. We questioned until we could question no longer but he just replied, "You can't handle the truth".
Eventually once we began reciting Vogon poetry, he finally succumbed. His plan was ingenious, stealing 0.01 denominations from every bank account around the world.
Before we had chance to react Master Splinter's voice cut in "That'll do Krang, that'll do"
The sound of sirens broke our concentration, and with the bad reputation we had recently acquired since the anti-mutant up rising we had to get out of there, fast.
But April tripped on her way out over a snake following a tall hooded figure into the night. The police caught up to her as they took her way, accusing her of Krang's plot, who had got away in an escape pod that the police couldn't track as he didn't appear to be a human life-form, apparently they paid by the bullet.
"I don't know how to quit you Michelangelo!" She screamed as she ducked into the police car.
I heard this through the bushes, risking my freedom, I shouted back "I know".

We ran into the night, finding our vehicle, disguised as a dog, promoting a dog grooming company.

Hope you enjoyed this, I will keep posting as much as I can. Not only with little bits of fiction but also articles on news stories, and personal posts about my first year at University.

Thanks, please feel free to comment either on here or the Reddit post all feed back good or bad is awesome!

Creative Writing Task - Article Prompt - 'Innocence'

So then first task of what is looking like a busy first year. The task was we had to find an article title that grabbed our attention then write a 300-600 word piece of fiction about it. And we weren't aloud to look at the actual article itself until we had finished our piece. 

I started looking for articles on Reddit and eventually found two that looked fun. The first prompted me to write what's below. 

'Woman shoots stalker after he kicks in her door, “I stood up for myself”" 

'Innocence'

"I stood up for myself". 

"I didn't want to kill him but I needed to protect myself".

She was wailing now. This was the forth time they had heard her side of the story and yet what no one could ever know. Was the story of the man laying face down in her hallway surrounded by his own blood. Blood which was beginning to pool around him, still trickling out of the door, onto the front step. And dripdrop, dripdrop. Sounding in the ear of those trying to work out what his side of the story was. 

He, the he in question. Lying filled with the heated metal from a .22. Was a known ex-lover of the woman screaming her innocence. 
"I think the lady doth protest too much"

A snide remark from a passing detective. Snide yet all too reasonable given the circumstances and the lack of knowledge she seemed to have on this supposed now stalker. 

"I don't know how long he's been following me but he was here tonight and I've seen him 
looking at me before"

"That's enough isn't it?" 

Her story goes as such: Ex boyfriend is upset with break up. Gets angry and begins to follow her around after said break up. Despite calling the police (no such calls are in the log of complaints) and the man understanding thus, he persists. So, logically, she arms herself. Takes her Father's pistol. He knocks on the door, she goes to answer. But, fear suddenly reverberating within her at the sound of his faulty engine still running outside. Checks who it is, "Leave me alone!". 

He knocks again.

Then again this time with his foot. Breaking each hinge of the door, she backs up down the hallway, getting the .22 from the phone table. Shooting him, once in the stomach and then the chest.  

This was a very fair story and one that was quite believable; the case was left to the side, all the evidence collected. It was an open and shut case, no? 

There were just a few issues that the detectives had.

"I'm innocent, I've already told you all you need to know" 

"Why are you still questioning me about this? I'm the victim here"

And as the judge clapped the gabble down, stating a guilty verdict and life imprisonment.
With fear building in her eyes. 

He explained "This sob story is all very well, but you failed. The man was shot in the back. He bled from 5 bullet wounds in his back all from close range. The door was not kicked open at all, your finger prints were on the key still hanging in the door."


She got scared it was the last time he would leave the door, so she made sure he never left it alive again. 

So there's the first post, let me know what you think.