“Starboard, lads, double time, she’s crashing down on us!”
The sea was a tempest, rocking monstrous waves and unleashing its fury on our courage.
“Hold fast,” I called to anyone who could hear above the squall as salt bit into my scarred lips. Safety an afterthought, I gripped the nets to pull in our catch and feed the crew.
“Jacob,” Mom interrupted, “out of the aquarium, you’re scaring the fish again.” So embarrassing – why can’t she be like other moms and catch me masturbating?
And just like that, we finally have a story with nobody dying.
Writer’s note: The original story for F was called Frain and I fell from a ladder and broke my skull while drinking whisky — ’twas the drop that killed him, the first officer on the scene says. But since some people were getting worried about my mental health — not to mention my physical health after falling from a ladder — I did a last-second lineup change. And besides, it’s only your imagination that kills the editor in our previous story!
How did this all start? Blame Hemingway who crafted the six-word story (“For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn.”), which led me to give a shot at six-sentence stories.
Gee, why don’t you come back tomorrow! Also, this just in … during the all-request lunch hour, you can suggest occupations for any of the upcoming letters. In other words, I didn’t plan at all and haven’t written a thing yet for the rest of April
Most of all, thanks for stopping by!