CASTAWAY

The sea was calm and a brilliant clear blue, mirrored by the cloudless sky above.

The storm had railed against the mysterious island for three weeks, the same surge that had capsized the cargo ship and driven them to the unknown land in the canoe life rafts.

‘You’re sure which direction?’ Gideon asked.

Cyrus shrugged. ‘We can’t stay here. Nothing but sand and rock and we haven’t seen another ship all the time we’ve been here.’

‘There must be a search party looking for the wreck and survivors. Why haven’t they picked up our emergency beacons?’

Cyrus shrugged again. He wanted to get away from the island. Something felt wrong. They had explored it all and found no sign of life but still he couldn’t shake the feeling they were not alone.

They shook hands before each solemnly getting into their meagre craft.

As they pulled away from the beach Cyrus looked back.

He saw the glint of sunlight reflected on glass. Standing on a rock he saw the man watching them leave through his telescope.


photo-20170731154618694

My small tale was suggested by the classic novel ‘The Mysterious Island‘, by Jules Verne.

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

LUXURY HOLIDAY

Archie sat in the small boat. ‘Is that it? We’ve hardly got out of the bay. You didn’t even put the sail up.’

‘No wind in the bay for that,’ the boat owner answered.

‘Well, I haven’t found anything luxurious about my cruise at all.’

‘I’m sorry you feel that way, although as you’ve had the full hour, I can’t offer you a refund.’

Archie jumped over the side and landed in the shallow sea, soaking his shoes and trousers. He trudged up the sandy beach to where Agnes was sitting. She peered at him over the top of her book. ‘Well, how was it?’

‘Splendid. you would have enjoyed it,’ Archie replied through gritted teeth.

A tanned, young man walked passed. He gave Agnes a wave. She waved back with a beaming smile.

‘Who’s that?’ Archie asked.

‘The hotel masseur, Ricardo,’ Agnes replied, picking up her book once more. ‘I decided to treat myself to a little bit of luxury too.’

Archie removed his shoes and began scraping the wet sand from his feet.


photo-20170724154621263
Copyright The Storyteller’s Abode

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Visit THE AGNES AND ARCHIE STORIES to read more of their adventures.

DEFIANCE

They sat by the sea watching children play on the beach.

‘Alright?’ he put his arm around her shoulder.

The tears slowly running down her face gave him his answer.

It had taken her twenty years to return. Years of pain and guilt. She had been their teacher. They had trusted in her. She was supposed to protect them.

A school outing before the summer holiday began. A visit to the local museum for a bit of history and then a trip to the beach. It wasn’t her fault the terrorists had come that day.

The images still haunted her. They would never leave her. The panic, the terror, the fear in those young faces. The blood. The dead.

Governments fought aimless wars and encouraged segregation and hate. Religions tried to absolve themselves of blame. Terrorists continued to kill with no purpose, never furthering their cause.

She was beyond all this. She had only her memories and sorrow. She wouldn’t let them count her as their victim. She was here. She had not let them win.

This was her defiance.


photo-20170522162303645
Copyright The Storyteller’s Abode

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Influenced by events in Manchester this week, my thoughts are with all involved, especially those children and parents affected by this devastating and abhorrent act.

WINSTON IN PARADISE

Winston waved off the liner as the huge ship was towed away from the harbour.

He saw the Havillands and the Haliburtons waving back as he pocketed their money in his shirt pocket.

Didn’t he feel like a slave ferrying the rich tourists round the island in his car, taking them out fishing in his motor boat, showing them the sights of the island? At their call twenty-four seven, bowing and scraping. Yes, Boss. Sorry, Boss. Is the lady feeling the heat too much today, Boss?

Soon they would be back in their stuffy, cold houses, slaving away in their offices, stuck in their traffic jams.

Their stay in paradise was temporary, a fleeting glimpse. Winston had spent his whole life in paradise. He was perfectly happy to take their money when he needed to.

Thanks to the Havillands and the Haliburtons he had a couple of months relaxing in his hut by the beach to look forward to.


screen-shot-2017-03-24-at-6-40-56-am

Written for ‘What Pegman Saw’, a weekly prompt based on a view from Google Maps. The idea is to write a piece of fiction of around 150 words based on the prompt. Full details can be found HERE. This week we’re off to Nassau in the Bahamas for a purely fictional tale.

For more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Feature Image – Aqua Beach by Daniel Piraino via Google Maps.

WHY DO WE FALL?

Sarah felt like an idiot as she was lifted onto the horse. Her face resting on the warm hair of the horses’ neck, she felt her feet being pushed into the stirrups. Cautiously, she lifted herself and sat upright in the saddle. The horse twitched and pulled underneath her.

‘All yours,’ her father beamed at her with pride.

Two years since the accident. She remembered the pain as her spine and legs were crushed underneath the fallen horse. The months in hospital after waking from her coma. The rehabilitation. Accepting that she would never walk again. The determination that she would ride again.

Her hands rubbed the smooth flank of the horse. She tapped it and felt him respond by stepping forward. A few steps clenching onto the reins, another tap and the horse began to trot. That would be fast enough for today.

The breeze blew in from the sea, the spray gently hit her face. The horse splashed through the tide water on the wet sand.

Sarah smiled. She felt alive again.


photo-20161226154623024

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story, in around 150 words based on the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.