Snippet #2357568

Cynical desert sands sprawling the minds eye, sickening cracks and bones snap. Bloody gorges soaking the cosmos and then light.

Music erupt from the darkness and finally her eyes shot open.

Pawing at the cracks of dazzling brightness, Grace groaned her muscles in pain as she sat up; or tried too, as she found herself falling back down and grimacing. Struggling to peer around, at first she saw nothing, then shapes gradually materialized into view, revealing what looked like sides of ride, and many more shapeless forms.

Trying to get back up, this time she managed before realizing that she was in what appeared to be a Tea Cup ride. More off-putting was the soft jingle of the ride ringing out in joyous refrain. It was near impossible to see, because the mist obscured so much.

Instinctively she checked her sides and felt no scar. That was somewhat of a relief, at least for now, although she was pretty sure she was not out the woods as of yet. That in itself was concerning; hurriedly Grace searched her jeans finding her mobile, apprehensively she checked the screen and frowned in confusion, the phone seemed to be working fine, but when she tried to call anyone, the music of other fairground attractions was the answer.

It was as if to mock her, mock her attempts to find solace.

So it was the young Irish Public Relations Agent stood up and surveyed the entire area, or what she could see, so much was obscured and hard to define any shapes. Yelling would not help things, no it would not. Instead maybe she best try find the exit and ignore the coldness shaking her very bones. Everything seemed unreal in this place, every direction, north, south, east and west all suggested sinister intentions.

The woman tried desperately to remember anything, she had been on her way back on a plane, but there appeared to be no sign of a crash, and her body uninjured. So reason would suggest they had not crashed.

The ringing of the ragtime continued in cruel melodies.

Trembling she drew up her phone again and dialled 911 this time the answer was different, this time it was different, “Heartless bitch, whore to job.” she threw down the phone aggressively and watched it smash completely.

In horror she realized now what she had done, and rushed to pick it up, but she had thrown it with such force, the thing was completely broken.

Finally the Grace, strength died and the tears started, the music strangely seeming louder, almost as if to drown her out. Or she was too upset to think straight.