Tag Sea

Fishy Tale – Magpie Tales

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wyeth n c Dark Harbor Fisherman

Dark Harbor, 1943, N. C. Wyeth

“We have too much food here, Jacob. What are we supposed to do with it all? It wasn’t our plan to empty the sea of all its fish.”

“Nonsense, Simeon, nonsense! There is no such thing as too much fish! How ungrateful you are! Me and my men have risked life and limb on the mountainous waves to bring this fine haul home to harbour. Not a life lost, not a bruise nor a scrape did we sustain. Does it not cross your mind to utter one word of thanks?”

“But where is your common sense? All of our salt has been used for the preserving of meat and our barrels are taken with wine. We cannot consume the fish fast enough. It will be left to waste and rot by the quay.”

“You see problems where there are none, Simeon. I propose a feast – let us build a bonfire, barbecue the meat over the flames and wash it all down with copious gallons of wine. We will have empty barrels, spare salt and extremely happy villagers. A solution, do you not agree?”

“I suppose I do, Jacob. You are an ingenious man, so it seems…”

——

Here’s my latest entry to Magpie Tales – Jacob is a quick-thinking chap, no?

I hope you enjoy this week’s entry- and please do visit Magpie Tales for amazing poetry and prose!

 

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Anchor – Magpie Tales

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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.

————-

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

The Fight – VisDare 38

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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.

*****

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