The sea was his last and first memory.
.....Once the smell of a father fresh from the
boats that held and danced him into the
sea, laughing at the waves and fretting
womenfolk.
.....Now as the glass bottom light darkens,
he stops struggling as the voices of his past call.
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Welcome and thanks for dropping in. I'll pop by yours by and by.
This blog was inspired by First 50 words where you freewrite from a single word prompt. I use random words or images to create flash fiction in formats ranging from twitter postcards to short short stories.