Plot twists don’t have to be concerned just about circumstances, like the surprise at coming upon a wild animal. It can involve other senses, like smell. (So don’t forget to include your sensory awareness in your writings.)
When we lived in New York, and our boys were old enough to be in school, and I had a day off at the same time as Jeff, we would play!
One school day we went canoeing just the two of us along the Erie Canal. We took a side creek and paddled up that for a while through some farmland. I was in the bow with Jeff in the stern as usual. The creek became shallower and shallower, about shin deep, as well as narrower and narrower so we knew we wouldn’t be able to turn around. We ducked under bushes and branches to proceed through. On either side was a slight hill only as tall as our eye level. Beyond the brushy creek area was farmland – a large pasture with barns in the distance seen over the dip to the creek. It was quite an adventure… until…
I suddenly smelled something “funny.”
We were already paddling very slowly and cautiously around and over the branches that a butterfly could easily have circled us. Being a whole seventeen feet behind me, Jeff couldn’t smell anything unusual. As the smell developed, I told him to slow down even more. Then I threw my hand over my mouth and nose, hardly able to breathe. And then I saw it, half in the water and half out…
The decaying carcass of a very large dead hog.
It seemed about half the size of our canoe and the tip of our canoe bow was coasting to nearly touching it.
“Backpaddle!” I screamed, gagging on the breath required in order to yell out that one word.
Jeff was confused, but only for a moment as the stern of the canoe came into the aroma cloud of decomposition and death.
We moved surprisingly quickly, considering there was no space to turn around and all the branches necessary to recross. We were very soon out of the range of the smell which was bad enough that my eyeballs would have melted were we to have remained that near it any longer.
Side adventure over. When the creek allowed, we turned around and stuck to the familiar urban waterway of the Erie Canal.