SUSAN TIPPETT BRAITHWAITE

Today’s word is sprauchle. Sprauchle is such a descriptive word. It means to move with difficulty; struggle; clamber; to move in a hasty, clumsy manner.

Here’s my response to today’s prompt (another wee snippet taken from Running The Asset):

There wis nae mistakin the hairdness o the gun brizzt howe intae hir side. “Gin ye wint tae leeve tae sei the nixt meenit, ye’ll stoap feckin sprauchlin,” the gadgie ahint hir fisst.

Elle jeelt. Gin she fochtin him aff, wi the gun insnorlt, hit wid maist like en wi hir bluidin tae daith aw ower hir newlins feenisht flair. She nodded.

And now in English.

The unmistakable hardness of a gun pressed deep into her side. “If you want to live to see the next minute, you’ll stop fucking struggling,” the man behind her hissed.

Elle froze. If she fought back, with the gun involved, it would most likely end with her bleeding to death on her newly polished floor. She nodded.