The Weekend

by | Jul 19, 2023 | WritingExercise | 0 comments



“I’m ok!” shouted Benji. He leaned against the frozen cliff wall and let out a sigh of relief.

Then there was a crack. Benji froze. He quickly looked around. Nothing. Another crack. Benji looked down.

There it was: a large zig zag shaped line in the floor. The ice shelf that had dampened his fall was threating to break off.

“I…I think I have a problem here! I could really use a rope right now!” Benji shouted.

James’ head appeared over the cliff’s edge.
“We don’t have one!”
“I really need a rope right now!” Benji looked in horror at the crack below his feet. It was getting larger.

James looked around. They had no rope. What did they have? The sleeping bag! He ran towards the snowmobile, grabbed the bag and his knife and started to cut it into small strips.
Another loud crack.

“James!” Benji’s voice reached new heights. He turned around to face the wall. There must be a way out of here. He quickly ran his hands over the wet, slippery surface.
“I’m working on it!”shouted James, strips of sleeping bag in his mouth while he tied them together.

 “Work on it a little faster!” Benji shouted, silently cursing his friend. Come to Svalbard, he had said. It would be fun, he had said. They have snowmobiles, he had said.

Then it happened. The weight of the snowmobile was too much for the weakened ice shelf. The edges of the ice shelf were starting to give way.  
Benji frantically kicked against the icy wall now. The ice was incredibly strong.
Just a little more, he thought. He caught the ice breaking from the corner of his eyes. It was getting closer and closer.
He pushed himself off the ground.  He rested his beaten and sweaty face against the cold icy wall. A loud crash made him flinch. He cautiously looked over his shoulder, just in time to see his snowmobile vanish into the icy cold waters below him.

“Hold on!” Jame shouted and threw the makeshift rope at him.
“I’m holding!” Benji grasped the bright orange cloth dangling before him. “Pull me up!”
“Hang on!”

Benji rolled over onto his back. He lay there for a minute, trying to catch his breath, before he slowly tried to prop himself up.
“Next time…we’re going to Maui.”

This short essay was the result of a daily 15-30min writing exercise.


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