Tag Sea

Anchor – Magpie Tales

freyathewriter 20 Comments

stainforth Shetland 2014 Yell Sound

Yell Sound, Shetland, 2014, by R.A.D. Stainforth

I am finding it hard to watch. My ship is pulling away, not from the shore, but from its sister ship pitching and yawing as it heads out of the mouth of the bay and into the open sea.

There is no protection out there, no place to hide from either the gale force winds, or the waves as high and hard as mountains. The battering will be relentless.

I turn away, feeling a rush of betrayal. My betrayal of him as I turn my back, and his betrayal of me as he has once again refused my pleas to stop, to stay on board with me in the safety of the harbour.

It is complex, our relationship. Built on shaky foundations – built on none at all, some would say, those who are sticklers for truth, those who are pedants. Ships do not have foundations. Only hollow hulls.

I whip round, face out to sea once more. I lift the binoculars, blinking as the ship fills my vision. A solitary figure is standing on the deck, binoculars trained on me.

I wave.

He waves in return.

I wait for his return. There is nothing else that I can do.

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Here is my latest entry into Magpie Tales – please do pop over there for more writerly goodness!

The Fight – VisDare 38

freyathewriter 4 Comments

Here’s my latest offering for Anonymous Legacy‘s photo-inspired prompt, VisDare. This week’s prompt word is ‘Chase’. The rules are simple:

150 words – or less.

Post entry to your blog and “link in”.

(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)

DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!

The photo is below, and my piece follows.  Let me know what you think, and give it a go yourself, why not?

 

– The Fight – 

They’re too fast. There’s no way I can escape their clutches. My stomach clenches with fear, I gasp, swallow sea-water and go under, once, twice, flailing, kicking, eyes stinging against the salt.

My chest is on fire. I’m desperate to breathe, to oxygenate my lungs. Where’s the surface? What will be worse, drowning or….?

Instinct – the primeval urge to survive – pushes me to the surface and I pop up, released like a champagne cork. I drag in ragged breaths. I don’t care if they get me, I just need to breathe…

The sun shines. A lone seagull casts its shadow on the gently swelling surface. The storm has passed and they are gone. I see the lighthouse, a candy-striped speck in the distance and begin to power through the water towards it.

For the next few minutes, I can pretend that all is as it used to be.

*****

anonymous-legacy-160x160-black

The Adventurer – Friday Fictioneers

freyathewriter 38 Comments

Here is this week’s entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. She has requested that we extend birthday greetings to Jackie P. and Perry Block, so….

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOTH OF YOU!

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

Copyright - Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Copyright – Jan Wayne Fields

– The Adventurer –

Murdo McMaster didn’t quite possess the spirit and guts of Great Uncle Hamish.

Hamish had cheated death countless times as he captained his tiny fishing boat, the ‘Nil Desperandum’, in the unforgiving seas off the west coast of Scotland. Murdo’s chosen path as a tourist-season pleasure boat captain was ironic, to say the least.

The only thing that Murdo had ever cheated was the IRS. Now he would be forced to take his two-berth out into the Atlantic, in the hopes of reaching international waters before the tax authorities caught up with him.

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Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!