Use the photograph above as the inspiration for your flash fiction story. Write whatever comes to mind (no sexual, political, or religious stories, jokes, or commentary, please) and after you PROOFREAD it, submit it as your entry in the comments section below. There will be no written prompt.
Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a story incorporating the elements in the picture at left. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
Please keep language and subject matter to a PG-13 level.
Use the comment section below to submit your entry. Entries will be accepted until Tuesday at 5:00 PM Pacific Time. No political or religious entries, please. Need help getting started? Read this article on how to write flash fiction.
On Wednesday afternoon, we will open voting to the public with an online poll so they may choose the winner. Voting will be open until 5:00 PM Thursday. On Saturday morning, the winner will be recognized as we post the winning entry along with the picture as a feature.
Once a month, the admins will announce the Editors’ Choice winners. Those stories will be featured in an anthology like this one. Best of luck to you all in your writing!
Entries only in the comment section. Other comments will be deleted. See HERE for additional information and terms. Please note the rule changes for 2016.
It was just before daybreak. The sea was calm, as though it had been resting from its constant lip-lap and sway. Watson dozed on deck as I prepared a pot of coffee and scrambled eggs. After eating, I raised the sails, hoping for a strong wind to carry us on. Majorca was lovely, but Corfu was waiting to be explored.
As the morning sun seemed to yawn and stretch at the skyline, I heard what sounded like giggling coming from the prow. But, how could that be? It was just Watson and me from the start.
Moving forward, I froze in shock. There were three, what seemed to be mermaids, lounging comfortably.
“I’m Adalicia and this is Arianna and Adoracion,” the first one said. “
“We’ve been alongside you since you left Spain. You’re such a fine sailor,” the second offered.
“We enjoyed your visit to our watery home, and just wanted to send you, and Watson, off safely. We just wish and pray that all sailors were as well schooled as you, Thanks,” the third said.
“B..b…b…..but.,” I stammered.
“We’re the AAA’s of the ocean. Sail safely,” she shouted, as they slid out of sight into the deep..
As the winds began to full-blossom the canvases, I reached over to Watson, who slept through it all, and nudged him with my foot. “Time to get up, old chap,” I said, as I tossed a bone at his wagging tail.
At Sea
“It’s very bright. The glare is blinding.” She says it as if it should be news to me.
I nod. She has never been up in a small plane before. I repeat my mea culpa. “Miss Walker. This is such a long shot. I don’t mind, of course, but I think you are probably wasting your money. Even if we pass over them, the dazzle, the brightness of the sun bouncing off the sea, as still as it is, it could totally obscure them. Needles…”
“I know,” she says. “I know. They are needles…”
She is exhausted. Flat. Lost. Lost, like her brother, his wife, the other couple and Sammy whatever his name is, the ship’s rental rep who agreed to crew and keep an eye on the vessel and tourists. Four rank amateurs at sea. Out for a weekend sail. Between the four of them and the mate, they almost knew what they were doing. Too much money. Too much millennial chutzpah. They could have sunk. Pirates, maybe. Or what passes for piracy these days in the Caribbean. A lot passes for piracy these days.
I had told her on the ground. “Yeah, I’ll take you up. But lady, this is a huge body of water.”
But they always want to look.
And I am always willing to take them up.
I’ve lost track of how many I have searched for.
Sure, the sea might have swallowed them up.
The sea…. or people like me.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
She was staring at the picture over the mantel in the tiny cabin where we had sought shelter from the howling storm. Hail pelted the windows and snow piled high against the walls.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” I said. “Featureless sky, featureless sea, a distant sailboat, no signs of life…”
She smacked me, a light playful smack. “Come on, Jack, humor me. Such a scene does not exist. What does it mean to you?”
“Okay, okay! I‘ll play along. Let’s see… It means the old notion of global warming was correct after all. The polar caps have melted, and the oceans are swelling and covering the land. All that’s left are oceans and sky. But two survivors have managed to escape in a sailboat.”
She laughed. She was too young to remember when global warming was a threat. “What a ridiculous idea! That’s what I love about you. You can always make a joke from the worst situations. Who are these survivors?”
I threw another log on the fire and pulled her close. “You and me, of course. Who else?”
Like she said, such a scene does not exist and may never exist again. Scientists predict that in five years the oceans will be frozen to a depth of a hundred feet. Our children and our children’s children will never know the beauty of the ebb and flow of the seas. Global cooling is upon us.
First mate’s log, the former Trident
Day 1 adrift. I spot a ship in the distance but I do not think they can see me. Time runs short. Those deadly, spiteful creatures continue to torment me.
Day 2 adrift. The ship is closer but they still cannot see me. The white devils surround me now. If you read these words, I beg you not to be deceived by them. The white dolphins. Captain said they were good luck when we spotted them leaping near the ship’s bow. They seemed to like it when the cabin boy played his drum.
Day 3 adrift. I fear this will be my last day. The ship is still too far away and my voice only croaks out a call for help. The dolphins circle closer. I thought I glimpsed a drum around the neck of one of them. I keep imagining those last hours on deck, the white beasts flinging themselves at the ship, ramming holes and leaping so high they tore down the mast. The screams of my shipmates as they were flung into the sea and the red waters churning about me as I clung to a piece of wreckage. Their teeth gleam in the night.
First mate’s log, the Pequod
Found the wreckage of the Trident. The lone survivor died not long after we pulled him on board. Something about the white devils. Ahab is certain he meant the white whale. Have only spotted a pod of white dolphins.
From the crows nest of the “Resolve”, the fastest pirate ship ever built, the first mate pointing aft yelled, “Captain, the Endeavor is closing the gap, we’re lost!”
Captain Black barked his orders, “Full sail you scurvy dogs, or they will be on us before we can reach Tortuga, and we will really be lost. Now get to it, or I’ll keelhawl all of you!”
With that said, the crew doubled their efforts unfurling and raising all sails. They could feel the ship shudder as it bounced off of every wave they broke through. Soon they had every sail hoisted up, even the captain’s bed sheets.
The crew was holding on for dear life as the frigate chasing them continued to slowly gain on them, “Captain! She’s still gaining on us! Their Mad Captain is grinning like a cursed cat at us. I can even see his pearly white teeth through the scope now!”
“Come on! Put your backs into it, if we are ever to reach Tortuga first,” Captain Black implored.
Soon the frigate pulled aside of them and then passed by as if they were becalmed and adrift. Never had they ever seen a frigate cut through the waves so swiftly and smoothly as it sped past.
When the Resolve eventually pulled up to the pier next to the Endeavor, her captain yelled to Captain Black, “How about double or nothing the next time we race?”
With a grin of his own, he yelled back, “You’re on!”