Concrete bridge across a basin on the beach surrounding Sliema. Photo: Anita Simonsen
Here’s another flash fiction based on a photo taken in Malta.
The photo is of a bridge by the beach next to the waterfront, where the cabbage picture, from my first flash fiction, was also taken.
If you haven’t read it yet, you can read it here C:
I hope you’re enjoying these tiny stories.
I find them very entertaining to write, so you can certainty expect more in the future : D
I’ll attempt to post a new flash fiction every Wednesday from now on!
Bridging the Gap
Their spiky hair barely moved in the seaside wind.
His hair constantly invaded his eyes and got into his mouth, when he tried to speak.
When scouting the beach for channels, they walked ahead, he followed behind.
The setting sun made their shadows long, made the boys seem just as big and important, as they thought they were.
His shadow constantly fell into the nooks and crannies of the rocky beach, disappearing.
They tolerated his presence, he knew that. He could see it.
How they picked up the pace if he got too close, how one would sometimes glance over the collar of his leather jacket to check if he was still there. The shushed voices, when he got within earshot.
And yet he followed.
He saw them jump across increasingly bigger channels throughout the beach.
The water was shallow, yet touching it was a disgrace.
He’d seen one boy misjudge a jump. When he saw him again, his hair was no longer spiky.
When the channels had been concurred, when the blood was roaring in their ears, the boys looked to the sea.
They would dare each other to jump from one slippery rock to another in an unforeseen pattern.
The closer to the sea, the closer to the waves, the better.
But you couldn’t get wet.
The spikes and leather couldn’t handle it, and neither could your dignity.
He managed to catch up, but only because the boys had stopped at the bridge.
It was the ultimate feat.
Always wet from unpredictable waves kept the seaweed growing wild.
To reach the other side meant you were in.
Meant you had earned your spikes.
They turned towards him like clockwork.
A half-circle of narrowing eyes and smirking lips.
The crashing of waves roared behind them.
“Cross the bridge”, a tall boy said.
“If you dare”.
Magic words, cementing his faith.
If you want to read more, you can find an index of my written work here.
Stay tuned for next Wednesday, where I’ll post a new flash fiction!
It’ll resolve around jewellery Ö