It didn't happen. I lost my way in the narrative of the third novel, and it is still unfinished. Furthermore, February has its own challenges. I will take up the tale of Indigo's fateful weather again in March.
Meanwhile, Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch has a perfect Flash Fiction Challenge for the week resolutions die:
January 28, 2015 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about disorientation. A character could be lost in the maze of the mind or in a storm of unexpected traffic. What are the sounds? The sights? The smell? Explore the different ways confusion can be expressed and how it can create tension, provide relief or move a story forward.
As always, my answer to the challenge lies below the line:
Off the Map
Between one step and the next, disaster. I reach for the map clipped to my pack, and — nothing! Was it an hour since last I checked? Along the open corridor between the trees, no map lay behind me.
Was I still going north-west? My compass needle swings wildly, doesn't settle. Circuiting tree-trunks is another chance to lose my way. In the damp, moss marks tree-trunks all the way around, rain clouds obscure the sun's direction. And I've seen that Amanita muscaria, bright against the duff, before!
Desperate, I tramp on. I must find the marked trail before dark.