Found the concept fun and humorous!
I think there was potential to show the “not revolting but slightly annoying” part. Maybe something like, “…bin a day too long, when its enough to hope someone else would take it out but not enough to do it myself.”
I like the hair part too but think it could be muddled with something everyday, maybe being uncertain if the floating 100-thread count did it or your 750-thread count Egyptian Cotton. (something better written than that).
Prompt: Infinite Furnace
Blades at the head of the plane blurred, sucking in the sun’s power and vortexing it straight at me. My eyes battled the oncoming onslaught, fighting to stay open through the barrage of fumes and heat. A battalion of fumes broke apart, attacking my throat. My general commands a strategic retreat through the deafening roar of the plane. My feet move on their own to escape the onslaught. The tar swamps, ghosting my every step in shining, black memories, let me know I’m in the clear of the runway but not out of the sweltering sun. A light post offers what little respite it can, a thin blade of shade, but I am grateful regardless—it isn’t its job anyway. The roar of another SEAT, or maybe the same SEAT, beckons me to battle, dragging me into the base of the vortex of battle.
(SEAT=Single Engine Air Tanker used to fight Wildfires)
Great writing Cosmo! There is some really rich language here to paint a vivid picture. One piece of feedback I can offer for these exercises is to really dig into the associations of the adjective you have chosen so that you can squeeze the maximum amount of colour from it. How could you further this concept of infinity? Vortex is a good word you have used which has a nice infinite feel to it. Maybe flames giving birth to further flames or something like that could add more of the “never-ending” aspect of infinity to it.
In an attempt at mindfulness, I stare at the smooth epoxy floor, focusing on the clinical strip light above me. I muster a mere second before I am triggered again by the scents of antiseptic hand wash, and the elderly. My head becomes suddenly heavy, carrying the weight of worry. My stomach, a gymnast. Its been 3 hours since the nurse gave me an update. Leaving me alone with nothing but fickle hope.