I've always wanted to turn this into a longer story. Maybe I will someday.
Marthen ran through the darkness of the nighttime forest, the wind cold on his naked skin, the earth soft beneath his feet. A tree branch occasionally slapped his face stingingly, although he hardly noticed it. His bare feet hurt from stepping on sharp sticks and tripping over roots, and he felt a sharp, burning pain as he stepped on a large piece of broken glass. From somewhere above, a full moon lit his way, filtered through many branches.
As the plunger on the needle sank, pumping liquid sunlight into my veins, the world around me exploded. The off-white walls of my room became alive with color, angry reds sparring around somber blues, while playful greens danced together. Inside my chest, my heart hammered as if it was trying to beat its way out through my ribcage, and its sound was like a powerful drum lending a primal rhythym to my existence. Objects on the floor changed from the debris of life into toys, bright and demanding of my attention. I ignored the toys and turned my gaze on the goddess lying next to me.
Alright, I have a story I'm working on, and since we have this growing community of creative types, I'd like to draw off of that.
Here's the story concept: What if you discovered that you could, at will, shift between alternate realities? The catch? You have no control over where you go. The story will center around realities relatively close to our own, rather than vastly different ones.
Introduction: This is for the same anthology, surprisingly, somebody else on here posted a story for. The premise can be found here:
I still plan to flesh it out a bit more, but this is the basic story. I'm looking for any critique or comments that might help me with the story, especially on my characterization. I don't feel I'm giving my characters enough depth.