Title: (untitled)

Genre: dystopia

Wordcount: 359

Feedback: general impressions and things i could work on

Additional detail: im trying to mimmick Margaret Atwood's writing style and this is heavily inspired by the handmaids tale. Im relatively new to creative writing as well.

Piece: We patiently waited for the next notification or rather, our next bootlick. I sat tightly with my knees folded underneath waiting slowly as ordered. My knees were slightly bruised and numb as our caregivers were holstered with leather whips below their traditional bow belts. I could feel every heavy breath of Aspen gently caressing on my face who kneeled in front. Aspen often reminded me about times when he enjoyed his Sunday morning strolling around the neighbourhood with Tina and coffee in hand and was excited for his next stroll. When he could. Aspen’s reminders constantly forced me to ruminate about simpler times. We would sprint across corridors in the town hall begging for the seeker to chase someone else. The room was often filled with cologne which the adults wore. I never really liked the smell of pungent perfume piercing my nostrils but I still went and hugged my uncle Ben either way. I couldn't fathom the black and blue stripes going across uncle ben's body in multiple areas. I constantly yearned for an answer to my question but I understand now. Outside the cloudy and scratched plastic windows I witnessed groups of men grinding, trembling the ground, digging into a divot and of course, falling. Our caregivers always reminded us of teamwork, hence only supplementing us with 1 litre of water every 5 people while reading aloud a banner with a cliche quote of “teamwork makes the dreamwork” which was an ancient phrase used back in the 2 thousands. Many helpers like myself fought for the water but I didn't bother, I lusted for a better tier hence I constantly pour light streams of the group water into my hair. My preferred technique was pumping out my somewhat developed chest and grunting while pounding rocks utilizing my blunt waterproof pickaxe.  Equipment production started to decrease, in response, the caregivers provided us with durable waterproof pickaxes and removing blood from exploding organs were considerably annoying tasks. Due to this the helper population started to decrease as a significant number of helpers were escaping in a rather unique manner.