Friday, February 14, 2014


For Master Class, use the following sentence, in full, as your 5th sentence in your story: "There was an empty lot next door, with short cement steps leading up to nothing but air, and a For Sale sign swinging in the barren and sand swept yard."

I was on my way to the beach house to meet with friends one last time before duty to return to work once again took center stage.  Summer season had ended, the lifeguards were gone, the beaches closed and empty safe for the few beachcombers searching for shells and rocks while coveting the last rays of warm sunshine. Each summer a group of friends and I rented a bungalow near the beach, our weekend getaways, mini-vacations, that included a lot of sun, salt water and plenty of spirits. This year we'd rented a quaint, little clapboard house dressed in the colors of white and beige, both inside and out. There was an empty lot next door, with short cement steps leading up to nothing but air, and a For Sale sign swinging in the barren and sand swept yard. Many conversations were had late at night about this lot and how we were all going to chip in to buy it and build our own little beach house in the future. But, as many inebriated dreams go, come morning it was forgotten.

I walked the short, sandy pathway to the house barefooted, letting the warm sand cushion my steps and massage my toes. The warm ocean air flickered grains of sand onto my face and suddenly I wished for one more month of sun and fun. The summer had gone by so quickly.

I entered the house to screeches of laughter and the smell of homemade sauce and fresh baked ciabatta. My mouth salivated in pleasurable anticipation. I set my bag down and after some quick hellos, headed straight to the stove, sliced a piece of just-baked ciabatta and dipped it into the sauce. Hot with a kick of spicy, just the way I liked it. Whomever said good food wasn't the equivalent to a good orgasm never experienced good cuisine.  It lit all of the same pleasurable centers of the brain.

I suddenly remembered I'd forgotten the bottles of wine in the car. As I reached the front door the hairs on the back of my neck raised in alarm. It felt unpleasantly different, as if the oxygen had been vacuumed. I looked to my left towards the beach and caught sight of a mammoth wave heading our way. Air departed my lungs and my heart stressed itself into a full-blown arrhythmic beat. I ran into the house to alert the others knowing full well that to outrun a tsunami was illogical but I suppose survival instinct sometimes overrides the logical.

Making my way back to the front of the house, I found it had arrived. Looming high above us, on this beautiful, sunshiny day where the sun was brilliant and the day had been so perfect, so gorgeously perfect, this ominous giant wave, this clear blue monolith 30 to 50 stories high, teetered on the brink of our destruction. Sky and sun no longer visible, just a monstrous wave, swaying leisurely, teasing with its power to destroy. It swayed to and fro, taunting; a hostile, menacing, lethal grim reaper personified in the form of water. In water we are born, in water we shall die.

I wanted to seek shelter in the house - as if that would do any good - but found myself frozen in place. Trying to find my voice to scream my overwhelming fear, I found it had deserted me as well. Terror had stripped my vocal chords of its vibration. Resigned, knowing my time had come, I closed my eyes and waited for the thunderous crash that signaled my end.


This piece was birthed from a dream. It was exactly as I have written it.

February 14, 2014


SAM said...

What a rush! I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest, too!! I love this line: The air felt unpleasantly different- as if its oxygen had suddenly been vacuumed. You throw a lot of little descriptions around in this piece making it feel very real! I love it!

Thanks for linking up with the Master Class again. You met the challenge head on and defeat it!

SAM said...

Ohh my heart is racing! What an ending! That last paragraph moves so quickly, with such action, yet the ending is so very perfect.

I really like this line: The air felt unpleasantly different - as if its oxygen had suddenly been vacuumed.

You packed so much detail in this short piece, you absolutely took me there! I'm glad you joined up with the Master Class again this week! You took the challenge and smacked it out of the ballpark!

November Rain - k~ said...

You folded the prompt into your story nicely.