Mon Capitaine…

“Seriously. Who puts a sign up in the middle of the ocean?” The captain said with a dour look on his face.

“Better question, who hits a sign in the middle of the ocean,” mumbled the first mate.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir. Was just agreeing with your remark.”

“I thought so.” The captain turned back toward the large metal pole that was now stuck three feet into the bow of his boat. “So, what are we going to do about this?”

“Well, we could…” the first mate started.

“How about we try to back the boat up?” The captain interrupted.

“I don’t think…”

“That’s a great idea!” The captain beamed from ear to ear at his great idea. “Make it so, Number 1!”

Sighing, both from the command and the pop culture reference, the first mate walked to the wheelhouse and took the helm. “Ready when you are, sir.” His tone more degrading as he finished the sentence.

The captain enthusiastically flailed his arms in the ‘hurry up’ motion, wanting to see the culmination of his great idea.

“Sir, I would hold onto something, this might cause a sudden…”

“I’m fine. Just give her full power astern!”

“… jerk.” He finished his sentence, partly because he hated being cut off, partly as a clever innuendo. “Aye, aye, mon Capitaine.” He feigned a salute, then took the throttle in hand and pulled it all the way back.

The ship started shuttering as the prop wash piled high up on the fantail. The first mate held the wheel as center as he could as the engines whined loudly, pulling back against the pole embedded in the foc’sle. A horrible snapping and crunching noise emitted from the bow as the ship lurched backwards as it pulled free. The first mate looked up just in time to see the feet of the captain fly over the forward railing, followed by a loud splash and screech.

“MAN OVERBOARD!!!” The captain’s voice called out from the ocean. “MAN OVERBOARD!!!” It came again as the first mate brought the engines to an all stop as a smirk grew across his lips as he shook his head.

“Idiot.”

Filed under: Flash Fiction Tagged: Grammar Ghoul

First Impressions…

The lights played off the rotunda ceiling as it poured out of the aquarium tank. He stood, silhouetted against the deep blue, watching the fish swim in and around the reef, his arms akimbo.

“You’re late.” He said without even turning around.

“How did you…”

“You know who I am? Does it surprise you that I knew?” He turned, a smile crossing his face. “Nah, I saw you in the reflection of the glass.” He jested, closing the gap between us, his right hand outstretched toward me.

As I took his hand in mine, I could feel him clamp down, almost vise like, as his face became much more stern. “But, you are late.”

“Sorry, I got…”

“No.” His words silenced me instantly. ” No excuses. But, come walk with me.” As we turned to walk out of the rotunda, he said to me, “I have a job in need of doing.”

FFfAW

Filed under: Micro Fiction Tagged: FFfAW

Boys of Summer…

He tapped the photo of the group of boys on the back of his hand as the emotions burned in his throat. A small tear welled up in the corner of his eye and with a deep sigh, he sat back on the couch.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked as she set her wine glass down.

“They were just going to the last day of school.” He choked out, trying to measure his voice. “I saw them walking down the beach on my final day there, so happy, so full of life.” Talking seemed to calm him just a bit. “I knew I had to get a photo. Something just,” he paused looking up, “felt right. Ya know?” Taking a deep breath, he began to speak again. “Ten minutes later, the terrorists blew up the school.”

She flipped through the other photos, all from the aftermath of the bombing. Placing them back down on the coffee table, she put her arm around him, trying to comfort him. “It’s going to make a great photo-essay.”

FFfAW

Filed under: Micro Fiction Tagged: FFfAW