Writer In Motion

Gorgeous picture isn’t it? This is part of the #Writerinmotion project I am part of. The brainchild of the brilliant Jeni Chappelle, we are using this pictoral writing prompt to craft a story of 500 words which we will take on a journey of several steps to create an amazing story. Your feedback is welcome for my story. Keep in mind this is the FIRST DRAFT and not a finished piece.

Read, enoy, and comment. I welcome your thoughts.

And now… for the main event (I apologize for the bareness of this site, I am new to blogging, and am sure I will get better as we go on).

The Folly of Youth

What started out as a dare between us soon became a test of courage and folly. The two are like equal sides of the same coin. Heads like courage and you win; tails like folly and you lose; like a coin tossed in a contest to determine who throws the ball first, or… well, I know that all sounds a bit dramatic, but aren’t all those things you wish you could do over from the safety of hindsight a bit dramatic?

It was night now, hard to believe only three hours earlier we’d been laughing and daring each other to try things we’d never done before. The coin was a lure, a promise of adventure; but its truth was a greater lie than a cloudy summer day.

Sherry was the first to suggest the game. Sitting on the rough stone barrier separating the walkway into Grayson’s Cove from the beach she licked her melting ice cream.

“So, what’s the boat’s story anyway?” she nodded at the half-sunken ship down the beach.

I followed her slender arm; soft peach colored skin was dusted with sand from our earlier sunbathing. Sherry was a Summerling – a tourist visiting for the season who then returned to their lives in places more exciting than Grayson’s Cove. She was the cousin of my best friend Lucy. That summer we turned thirteen I loved her at first sight.

“Here’s your cone, Janie,” Lucy handed me my favorite – strawberry double scoop.

I smiled at Sherry’s giggle when some of the already melting ice cream landed on my shorts. Lucy snorted.

“Oh, just kiss and get it over with already,” she said in disgust at my amateur attempts to hide my growing feelings.

“The boat?” Sherry reminded us.

“Oh, that’s nothing special.”

“No?” asked Sherry. “Then why all the signs to stay away from it?”

“Hazard.” Lucy and I said at the same time. “Boy died last summer playing there.” I continued.

“Really? Let’s check it out.” Sherry leaped from the wall, halfway down the beach before Lucy and I realized she meant it.

“Hurry up, last one there has to jump off the roof,” she called over her shoulder laughing.

I tossed my cone and ran as fast as I could up the beach behind her, admiring how her legs sparkled in the sun as she ran.

We reached the boat at the same time.

“To the roof. We’re pirates!” Sherry clambered up the wooden structure. I was steps behind her.

Standing on top of the tilted roof she crowed with glee at her triumph. Then the impossible happened. She fell.

I jumped after her, hoping somehow to stop the inevitable from happening, but the coin was tossed, and it fell on tails.

She landed awkwardly, her beautiful neck broken.

I remember Lucy screaming, then sirens. I clung onto Sherry even as they tried to separate us. The stars twinkled overhead as the Summerling – my first love, left this world for another adventure.