Hermit

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Genre: Historical Fiction
Word Count: 100

HERMIT OF COLD RIVER

I came upon Noah and his crude cabin quite by accident while hiking in the Adirondacks back in 1938. Hospitable fella. Self-proclaimed mayor of Cold River City. Population: one.

“I left home as a youngster.” He puffed on his pipe. “I had my fill of American industrial slavery and highway carnage.”

“Don’tcha miss people?” I asked.

“Not much. I got my little garden. Fish in summer, venison in winter. An elegant sufficiency.”

In 1967 I read in the newspaper of Noah John Rondeau’s passing at the age of eighty-four in a hospital room. Not exactly the sendoff he’d hoped for.

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A word prompt to get your creativity flowing this weekend. How you use the prompt is up to you. Write a piece of flash fiction, a poem, a chapter for your novel…anything you like. Or take the challenge below – there are no prizes – it’s not a competition but rather a fun writing exercise. If you want to share what you come up with, please leave a link to it in Sammi’s comment section.

Over the past year and a half I’ve carefully avoided the C word or any issues surrounding it. There are plenty of rants, whines and opinions raging without adding my own. However this week’s word (after looking it up) elicited my unavoidable response. Seriously I do enjoy social interaction to a degree, but find a lot of it exhausting. Thanks for adding to my vocabulary, Sammi. It actually does describe me to a degree.

WHAT’S A FOURTEEN-LETTER WORD FOR INTROVERT?

When asked in a Zoom interview if quarantine had adversely affected me, I carefully considered my reply.

“In all honesty, my life hasn’t changed much.” I grinned at the young man on my screen. “I paint. I write.”

“Is there any social activity denied you that you really miss?”

I thought about my morning walk to the shut-down fitness center to gaze longingly at the empty pool. “Now that you mention it—swimming laps. Not very social, huh?”

“Do you consider yourself antisocial?”

“I prefer to call myself a solitudinarian.”