A Day at the Beach

L.C. Schäfer proposed the idea that she would write a story every day for 2024 and invited other Vocalists/Vocalites along for the ride. And so, here I still am. Day 2 of Week Three.

You can check her out here:

My other stories clustered together into a place where you can clickety-click onto them easily - Week 1:

Week 2:

Prompt number sixteen:

We're all dreaming of the sun (in the northern hemisphere). Write a story about the beach.

***

"How are you getting on, Barney?" Susan was watching her son's determination to dig the deepest hole on the beach although there was an Alsatian a few metres away who was giving him a run for his money.

"Have you reached Australia yet?"

Barney threw more sand out and with increased gusto pushed his spade into the hole. Without disrupting his rhythm, he shouted, "Nope! Still digging!"

Susan smiled at the person she loved more than anyone in the world and settled back down on her towel, luxuriating in the warm sun. Soon, she was dozing off and although she felt like it was only moments, she jerked herself upright to check on Barney.

An electric shock of fear pronged her heart as she could no longer see him. Scrambling to her feet, she leapt over to his hole, hoping that he would have just dug himself so deeply that he had disappeared from view but no, he was not there. Metal grilles were showing at the bottom of the hole which she found curious but her overriding concern was her son. She forced herself to take deep breaths to calm the thudding in her head. Where was he? Shielding her eyes from the sun's glare, she scanned the horizon.

In the distance, she could see two tall dark figures either side of a smaller form and she knew that that was Barney. The heat haze made them shimmer. In a fraction of a second, she was sprinting to them, willing her legs to pump like they never had before. She wanted to scream but she resisted, putting her energy instead into running.

They were in black suits, she realised. On the beach. And they were taking her son away. Her lungs were burning but she was almost on them.

"Barney!" she shouted and he turned to her. He had been crying and her heart did a spin in her chest.

He whimpered. Panic set in.

"Give me my son!" she screamed.

The figures stopped and there was a moment where Susan thought everything was going to be okay. And then they turned. Their cadaverous faces and the blank blackness of their eyes jellified her insides.

***

366 words

Another cliffhanger. I dreamt something that inspired this. I was on the beach with my sons, one of whom was running off into the distance and I went after him, managing to catch him and bring him back. This is when they were little boys instead of the hulking pieces of almost manhood they are now.

As we walked back to our stuff, we passed by stacks of square metal grilles like inukshuks, little rusty monuments next to the most enormous hole in the sand that was also the colour of rust. Some work was being done on the beach, by who or for what purpose, who knows? But it was some restoration or reconfiguring it seemed and it made me think, Truman Show like, about our world and whether what we know of it is real. If I had more words, I could maybe expand on it but it's 366 exactly today and I needed every one.

I am dedicating this to Sian N. Clutton who I've not seen on here for a while but who I know shares a passion for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which also inspired this piece. Check out her writings for creepy horror stuff as well as some quite lovely poetry.

Thanks for stopping by. If you've read this story, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

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