Wow. It’s been almost a week since I wrote any fiction. Everyone is throwing down word counts for this whole Nano thing, and I’m barely doing anything at all. Well, not nothing, I’ve gotta finish a paper for class, and my wife’s sister is visiting from Tennessee. I decided to catch up on a week of flash fiction prompts:
I’m continuing Miss Alister’s Transference, click through and keep clicking through to get all the way back to here with part one. I also typed the whole thing up on my Smith-Corona Coronet Super 12, circa 1971, all stream-of-conciousness like. Here’s the 1042 word continuation:
**EDIT** I just realized, I wrote this in the wrong perspective. I’ll need to rewrite in the first person…
* * *
“There’s a storm brewing.”
I glanced toward wind chimes mounted over the cabin door and surveyed the horizon. “Not one that I can see,” I replied.
James stood just behind me, I was performing his sentry duties. “Not that kind of storm,” he chuckled.
I lowered the looking glass focused on an island – the object of my intense scrutiny. It wasn’t James’ style to lurk, shirking his duties. “Pray tell, Skipper.”
I could feel the glare from my captain, blood rushing to change the color of his face. If the man could shoot lasers from his eyes, I expected this would be an excuse to cripple me over my attempted fun. I sheathed my looking glass and took a step towards the capstan, paying heed to the anchor chain as I walked. Each step away from the captain, I felt the heat from the coin compound in my pocket.
Perched atop of the capstan, I grinned at my fuming captain. “Come on, Cap’n. Speak to me,” I hoped my smile would defuse his anger.
The captain of the Zebedee chewed on his cigar for a moment. “How ’bout before I tell you, you enlighten this salty old dog on what you saw with that spyglass of yours.”
I shrugged, leapt down from the capstan and picked up a piece of the netting that was a constant companion aboard ship. I passed the netting between my fingers, drawn to each imperfection, removing debris every few knots. I continued doing this, now second nature, as I complied with my captain.
“There’s a stream on that island there.” I tossed my head in the direction of the greenish-purple island on the horizon. “That stream has a little waterfall. Each time we port near by, I look for it.”