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.
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, 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 2018.
Unusual Things
Three friends were on a small boat as it glided over calm waters, the moonlight reflecting off the surface.
As they cruised along, Jack pulled out three virtual reality headsets from his backpack.
“Look what I have for us,” he said excitedly.
Greg raised an eyebrow. “Why do we need VR headsets out here?”
“Just trust me, guys,” he replied.
Greg and Tracy were skeptical but they put on the headsets as Jack started up the program.
Instantly, they were all transported to a virtual reality world, where they flew in a spaceship, exploring different planets, surrounded by stars and galaxies.
“This is amazing!” Tracy exclaimed.
As they flew through space, Greg noticed something odd outside the virtual world.
“Guys, look over there,” he said, pointing towards a spot in the ocean.
They took off their headsets and, peering into the darkness, they saw a faint light hovering above the water.
“What is that?” Tracy asked, a hint of fear creeping into her voice.
Intrigued, they sailed the boat towards the light, and as they drew closer, they realized it was a small craft, with a string of glowing lights around it. Suddenly, it lifted into the air and sped off into the night.
The crew felt uneasy after the bizarre encounter and decided to head back to the mainland.
As they docked their boat, Tracy turned to Jack. “The VR world is interesting, but it has nothing on the real world for experiencing truly unusual things.”
“Are you sure we’ll be able to make it?”
I nodded at Hussain and pushed the throttles forward up against their stops. “Of course,” I said. “I’ve never had any doubts.”
We were almost home again, and everything had gone to plan. We’d set sail from Dunkirk – we’d been empty then, except for our decoy cargo of sisal matting and fertilizer – and had picked up our passengers from a secluded bay five kilometers to the west. We were heavily laden and riding low in the water, but the weather was fine, and there wasn’t enough swell to make our journey hazardous.
Although sailing at night without navigation lights or radar reflectors would have made anyone nervous.
But the money was good, and, with luck, we’d all be done before daylight.
Hussain looked anxious. His face was green and grey, the light from the half-moon insufficient for me to judge anything but his general demeanor. I’d expected it’d be cloudy, but the weather had improved, and I’d hesitated an hour before setting off. If it hadn’t been for me knowing my payload was waiting, I would have aborted, although I doubted Hussain would have agreed.
But the Glock he was carrying was a great persuader, and his understanding of the risks was a moot point.
And, if the worst happened, and we sank, there would be no calling for help.
There’d be no rescuing the survivors if we got caught by one of the coastguard’s launches.
Night Run
“Put up or shut up,” Dapper Dave Dugan said. “I need two crew…you game?”
I couldn’t see any way out. On the east coast, migrants were either freezing to death in the frozen wasteland between Canada and the States or drowning in deadly waters. I’d been mouthing off about how ugly it was, and that someone should do something.
“Nothing big,” he said. “Quick trip down across the line. Pull into a friendly Yankee cove. Pick up a dozen souls seeking a better life, bring them back.”
I’d seen Bogart’s, To Have and Have Not. Dapper Dave was definitely not Bogart, but I was pretty much a Walter Brennan clone.
Except I got seasick easily.
“I’m not a boat guy, Dave.”
“Dapper Dave!” he insisted.
“Right,” I revised my words, “Dapper Dave. Point is, how useful would I be?”
“You’ll be fine. Darla knows her stuff. Been on several runs with me. Just follow her lead.”
That was that. I slipped on boat loafers, donned a life jacket, hastily wrote up a will-not true but I meant to- and we shipped out.
Night at sea is the darkest. Cold. Wavy. Darla did know her stuff. She explained that she had once dated Dapper Dave’s son, Slick Sammy Dugan. After he died in a road accident two years earlier, she bonded quite intimately with Dapper Dave.
She then wink-winked.
I got the picture. In any case, we picked up a dozen folks and gave them new life io Canada.
Mysterious Dancing Lights
As the sun set over the horizon, the ocean turned into a dark abyss. The only source of light came from the distant ships and boats, their flickering lights illuminating the waves that crashed against them.
On one particular night, a small fishing boat was making its way back to port. The crew had been out all day, and they were exhausted from hauling in their catch. As they navigated through the deep, dark ocean, the captain spotted a light in the distance.
“Looks like another boat,” he said to his crew, “let’s go check it out.”
They approached the ship cautiously, but as they got closer, they realized something was wrong. The ship was old and worn, and it looked like it had been abandoned for years. But the strangest thing was the way the ship’s light reflected on the water.
It was as if the light was alive, dancing across the waves in a way that defied explanation. The captain’s curiosity got the better of him, and he ordered his crew to board the abandoned ship.
As they climbed aboard, they were hit by the smell of decay and rot. The ship had been abandoned for a long time, and the crew was clearly long gone. But the light from the ship continued to dance across the water, illuminating the dark ocean in a mesmerizing display.
The crew quickly realized they had made a mistake. They scrambled back to their fishing boat, their hearts pounding with fear. As they sailed away, they couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mysterious force could be behind the dancing light on that abandoned ship.
Night Run
Unfortunately, we were divided on the issue of whether the explosion was caused by enemy bombing or a temperamental mercurial fertiliser plant exploding. Of course, we would sooner believe the latter rather than there was an enemy at our front door.
Kay, forever the optimist, “Well we need more food supplies and at the same time we can check if the fertiliser plant exploded. We will go on a night run by boat. Tonight.”
The word, “tonight” took on epic proportions of fear and significance! I began pacing waiting for tonight to arrive, yet at the same time fearing the truth.
Dressed in black, we stole down to the port to board a boat in utter darkness. We chose a dumpy seaworthy vessel with no frills. Who could tell what the night now hid from us? Miles further on, our noses began to burn. The ammonia was unbearable. Thankfully, we had heavy wet masks around our faces and were wearing goggles as a precaution. We resembled A team warriors! No doubt about it, the fertiliser plant had exploded in a spectacular way! It was still smouldering. Relief, but it was still necessary to be cautious.
Leaving the Twins on the boat, with strict orders to be vigilant, we stole on land for the necessary supplies. With a wonderful harvest, we headed back to the boat. We hid under darkness like an old welcome friend. Once aboard again, we breathed deep sighs of relief before casting off for the Bakery. Home.
“From the outside, this looked so much larger. Why is it so hot in here, if the ocean is so cold outside?”
“Stop complaining, if we’re leaking, you can complain, okay?”
“Why do you get to watch the screen? All I get to see is your sweaty back. The next revision, I want my own screen. Do you think anyone will see the periscope?”
“Not at the speed we’re going. We’re almost there, just keep pedaling.”
“What do you see?”
“I see boats. Did you expect mermaids?”
“No, not really. Why didn’t you give us the ability to have four speeds?”
“I’ll consider that input.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
“Sh*t.”
“What?”
“We’ve got a big problem.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“You’re not going to believe this.”
“I said, I don’t want to know.”
“Sea Lions.”
“What about them?”
“Them is right, there must be a hundred of them.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“We’ve got to get out of here. Pedal harder!”
“Why?”
“I think they want to mate with our submarine.”
*.*.*
“That’s right, you heard me correctly. When we removed all the sea lions, we found they had attached to a mini-submarine.”
“Anyone inside?”
“We’re investigating. Give us a few minutes.”
*.*.*
“Marine Base, this is Marine Five, over.”
“Go ahead Marine Five, what did you find. Over.”
“Two people didn’t make it, they ran out of air. However, they left a note. Over.”
“That’s too bad. What did the note say? Over.”
“Recommend a different paint color. Over.”
“?”
Ten-year-old Lucy scampered onto the boat and her older brother motioned for her to sit. Peering out at the colorful lights playing off the water, Lucy realized she had never been on their boat at night.
The sound of an engine reached her. Wait. What’s going on? Before she could ask, she watched Isaac throw off the last line and the boat pulled away from the dock. Surely her older sister wasn’t driving!
“Isaac, where are we going?” she demanded.
“You’ll see,” he answered. “But you might want to hold on,” he added before disappearing towards the aft.
Hold on? How fast was her sister planning to go?
Before Lucy could ponder that question further, the boat started shuddering. Mom and Dad will be so angry if Nora wrecks their boat, she thought.
But the shuddering stopped just as quickly as it had started. As Lucy’s eyes adjusted, she tried to determine where they were. Something was off. Very off.
Isaac returned, grinning. “What do you think of your first night run?” he asked innocently.
“W..h..a..t is going on?” she stammered. “Are we f..l..y..i..n..g?”
“Not exactly flying. More like sailing vertically. But don’t worry. We won’t go too high. But you have to see the lights of the city from up here! They’re spectacular.”
Lucy collapsed back onto her seat, still trying to make sense of everything. Maybe this was all just a dream. But as the cool night breeze washed over her, she felt very much awake.
The big blue boat boasts a big black bilge
and
Bobs becalmed beside a barnacle bedecked buoy
with
Beguiling bikini babe bods basking breathless by the bow bulkhead
while
A bosun binds a bowline from the bowsprit to the boom
then
A bell bongs from the bridge binnacle
finally
Breeze.
I’m finally getting nose-blind to all this fish. Going undercover on a trawler wasn’t exactly the glamorous life of a secret agent, but Mikhael Yehuda had a clear directive from Jerusalem: get Georg von Gadolin. The trail of the notorious mercenary had led to this port.
Thankfully the crew of the Lucky Catch was a miniature United Nations, so his own Hebrew accent didn’t stand out. In fact, a lot of them thought Mikhael was a Coptic Christian, which helped avoid certain awkward questions. Like tonight, as he followed up on a lead.
He saw the man – tall and lean with head held defiantly high. There’s your man.
Mikhael adjusted his course to intercept. “Good evening, Georg–”
The other man’s eyes widened. “Dude, what are you talking about?”
There could be no doubt he’d made a mistake – no one could fake an accent when startled. Nothing to do but fade into the darkness, hope the man would shrug it off.
Yet how could he have been mistaken? The resemblance was uncanny.
And Georg von Gadolin had remained fit and active as a man in his twenties for the last five decades – which meant he’d participated in one of the Cold War anti-agathic experiments before becoming a gun for hire. No doubt the Americans had cloned the survivors, much as the Soviets did – and Mikhael had just found one of them.