Hello WWin #10, happy to still be participating, just about! Each week the words come slower. I’ve tried writing this week by taking inspiration from Brian, in particular expanding on the line from part II:
‘Who needs novels, a paperback rotted beneath the cushiony seat he was settled in.’
Using the prompts from WWIn:
paperback :: bounce :: crushing :: liquor :: root
The paperback disintegrating beneath the seat gave off a dusty scent; discarded apple core curling next to the ruffled pages. Damp had clamped the corners, stuck in a rigid wave. The words dribbled and slurred. Ants trickled in through the cracked open window and made a trail over the novel’s spine. Their antennae mapped the contours of the crumbling narrative, further crushed by their six-legged mission.
They weaved slightly returning uphill, as if the apple had fermented into a liquor-browning and heady. Their tiny ant prints have tracked a small world, reckless of height. A scurrying mile or two, a mini black tide trickling across the cars, dripping into coke cans and nesting underneath abandoned wheels.
There was something locked in a bouncy, black lined trunk. The ants approached the small gap between lock and car, ready and hungry.