This short story was written for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge, which invites writers to interact with one another through weekly photo prompts. My word count for this piece is at 172. Enjoy!
It’s not particularly unusual to catch the glimpse of a boat or two as they cruise past the bay. Yet this one, this sturdy little sailing boat, catches my eye. The bay isn’t far from the harbour so most boats that pass, power through the water towards it, their skippers barely sparing a glance for my private, little bay. This skipper, though, seems to stare right at me as he angles the boat towards the sand and docks right there, on the beach.
I rise to my feet, hesitating. I’m tempted to go down there and tell him about the harbour barely a mile off, but, for some reason, I can’t make myself do it. I can only watch him as he unloads his cargo, wondering what to do.
I’ve only just come to the conclusion that I should leave him to his work, when a sound makes me look round. The man is unloading bigger packages from the boat now – misshapen packages that wriggle about and scream whenever he kicks them.
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