Photo copyright K. S. Brooks. Do not use without attribution.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…
via Flash Fiction Writing Prompt: Fog — Indies Unlimited
Another writing prompt for a 250 word flash fiction contest.
Here is my contribution:
Sitting on top of the lighthouse and staring into the haze, I cannot help but reflect on all the wasted summers I’ve had at my grandparent’s house. There is nothing to do here on this godforsaken rock. No ships even come through here any longer since they’ve found a much safer route a few kilometres to the north…
Sometimes I think my grandparents enjoy the monotony, the all engulfing silence. I cannot understand it. At least, when I was younger, I could gorge in the stories they told. Stories about adventure, about monsters and ghosts – the hazy weather adding to the mystery.
As I stood staring into nothingness, trying to remember the one story about a ghost ship, I began hearing a peculiar sound. I wondered if it was the ocean hitting against the lighthouse, but it definitely had a melody. Forgetting about the story, I peered my ears until everything was silent again.
I slumped on the railing, disappointed, and my mind drifted again towards the story. And as I did, the melody returned. I imagined it to be a sea chanty, course and without rhythm. Thinking about it more strongly, I swear I heard the creaking of wooden planks near me – the sounds and music growing stronger.
But as I tried to rationalise what was happening, the sounds disappeared and I was once again alone in the haze. Maybe there is more to it, this place that nobody visits, a place where stories comes to life.