Story prompt from photo 3

[lynnmosher]

Thought it was time for another story prompt from a photo. I don't know if I'll have time to do one or not. Will try...

[melw]

Not sure what the word count should be, so it is probably. i must admit the story changed as i was writing it. MEL


GONE!
Words 625
The mist was rising from the water; Deanne could just make out the end of the jetty. She felt a cold wind blow off the water. How many days had it been? How many nights has she lain awake? Deanne turned back to the house. The lantern was still burning sitting on the kitchen counter. She knew it was no use waiting in the mist for someone who may never come.

It had been a normal day; the sun had been shining, and few clouds on the horizon. She had kissed Ben goodbye and hugged Luke. Ben her husband and Luke their son, both couldn’t wait to get out onto the water.

She had spent the day canning late tomatoes, it wasn’t until the sky turned dark that it was noticed a storm had grown. The blue sky was now blanketed with dark grey clouds. The clouds so thick that even the sun couldn’t fully break through.

Deanne prayed that her husband and son would be back soon. She lit the lantern so they would have a welcome light to come home to. The wind was picking up and the rain on the tin roof was pinging. She sat by the jars of tomatoes, smiling that Luke would likely sneak a jar off to his room.

She noticed a few flashes over the water and a few seconds later heard distance rumble of thunder. She shivered not from cold, but from fear. She wanted Ben and Luke home, but she wanted them safe more.

Deanne opened the door against the wind. She stared out at the water, the waves now splashing against the jetty. She went inside before the rain soaked her all the way through. She had only just closed the door when she jumped from a bang outside. I saw the big pecan tree smoking as I felt almost blinding from the flash of a lightning strike.

She sat in the lounge room with a woollen rug and Ben’s jacket that smelt just of him. She slept in snatches, waking with a start and looking at the jetty. Deanne slept on the couch for 3 days, and kept a constant vigil while awake watching the jetty.

Deanne knew it was unlikely she would ever see Ben or Luke again. After a week the officials declared them lost. She was expected to organise a memorial service, but how could she accept her two loves were gone.

Deanne heard a whistle and looked at the jetty. No, it was coming from the front of the house. She ran to the front door. She felt tears running down her cheeks, the only man she knew that would whistle that tune was Ben.

Opening the door she saw Ben carrying a pail. She saw the tail of some fishes out the end of the bucket. “Ben, is that you? Where is Luke?”

“I promised you fishes, and yes it is my. Luke is fine, just recovering from a broken arm and leg.” Ben dropped the pail and gathered Deanne into his arms. “De, we were 2 days up the coast, I had a fever for 4 days. I am so sorry we didn’t tell you, but we were really sick.

“Benji, never leave me alone.” Deanne said as the tears just fell down her face.

“Never would I leave my wife. Just might tell you don’t expect your son back alone. His nurse I think will become his wife.” Ben chuckled.

Deanne knew a miracle had happened, her husband was safe and now at home. She also had wondered if her son would ever get married. Could this have been God’s plan? She had strengthened her faith and her son had found the one for him.

[lynnmosher]

Sorry I'm just now getting to this. And the word count is my fault. It should be around 500 but yours is fine. Great story, Mel. I have only one suggestion, if I may. Just in case you ever want to use this...

Deanne opened the door against the wind. She stared out at the water, the waves now splashing against the jetty. She went inside before the rain soaked her all the way through. She had only just closed the door when she jumped from a bang outside. I saw the big pecan tree smoking as I felt almost blinding from the flash of a lightning strike.

You switched POV. Still a great story.

[melw]

thank Lynn, i kept on changing and i thought i had fixed it all. A lot of prompts i do first person but wasn't going to do it this time. Thanks anyway.

MEL

[Tommie Lyn]

Good story, Mel.

[grateful]

Lake Michigan is exceptionally calm now, in the moments after sunset, and so am I. I knew this day would come, and now that it’s here, I am surprised at the peace ruling my heart.

I am tempted to wistfulness and regret. I wish I could have spent more time out here with the children. I wish, on quiet days, we would have taken our folding chairs and a glass of tea out here. We could have chatted and read our books.

I wish there were a way I could bottle these memories and take a sip each evening as the light fades.

Of course, real memories would have to include the fact that while the kids were out here playing beach volleyball, I was inside, spreading peanut butter and jelly on Roman Meal whole wheat bread, and squeezing lemons for lemonade. How could I forget the sand they tracked throughout the whole cottage when they came in between games to inhale food and drink without pausing to breathe?

And while the idea of reading a book out on the pier sounds like a good idea, there might only be five days a year when the temperature was warm enough, the wind low enough, and on at least four of those days the mosquitoes and horse flies would wipe the smile off the most inveterate nature lover.

Packed boxes, including the pictures, are all on their way to my grown children now. My daughter will receive the photograph of our catamaran in full sail on one of those golden afternoons, foam on the waves, and laughter in the air. Will she be able to enjoy it or will she only see the picture in her mind of the day a runaway speed boat tipped it over before slamming it into the pier, breaking off the post and ruining her brother’s birthday party?

Bitter and sweet, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death…and so the sun has set and I must say goodbye to this beloved place. My vision is dimming but my memories are sharp and clear. I enter the winter of my life without fear. The One who has led me safe this far will lead me the rest of the way home.

[grateful]

Well, I've evidently done it again. I post, and the thread immediately dries up. It's scary to have that much power. LOL! (I think I'm laughing...)

I've loved these photo story prompts, and have posted my responses on my blog. I hope that's okay.

MelW, your story caught me from the beginning. I was so afraid it was going to turn out sad. I'm glad it didn't.

Elaine

[lynnmosher]

Sorry, Elaine! I haven't gotten back to this. Not to worry! It's not you! Am reading right now!

[lynnmosher]

Ah, memories! Great thoughts! I love this...

bottle these memories and take a sip each evening

Oooo...wish I had written that! Great line! Nice job!

[grateful]

Thanks, Lynn.

Should it read "I wish there were a way...?"

[lynnmosher]

This point always confuses me but I think it's were.

[Xenia]

I like both the stories! Grateful, yours made me teary eyed. If I am ever going to post to these wonderful prompts I am going to have to learn NOT to read those already submitted first. After I read your stories they are the only ones I can imagine!

[grateful]

Thanks, Xenia! A friend just read that story on my blog, and wanted to know if I was dying--was there something I hadn't told her! LOL!

[lynnmosher]

Yikes! I'll have to remember that for my future posts!

[Laina]

Nice story, Mel and Grateful.

I also put the prompts on my blog. I think it's a great way to share your writing and watch yourself grow in the craft of story telling.

[Tommie Lyn]

Good story, grateful.

[Ink Blot]

Wow. grateful, what a great post. I like how you take the guilt that we often feel when facing a death and allowed her to be logical with it. The last paragraph was awesome, too. Great description. Excellent mood.