OLWG · writing

OLWG# 233- Sara, With no ‘h’

Written for OLWG# 233

Sara grew up just outside of Port Centerburg. Raised by her father, she didn’t remember her mother but knew that Mom had also been named Sarah, only she had spelt her name with the ‘h.’ She had some cherished photographs, and Dad had told her stories, but she had no recollection of her mother at all.

Sara was twenty-three years old when Dad passed. At least she had memories of him. Her father had ensured a good life for them both. He had left Sara the house where she had grown up. It was the night before Dads memorial when she found the shoebox under his bed. Inside were letters and cards. It was mostly, correspondence from her mother to her father, written before they were married and while he was overseas.

There were letters from him to her too. The letters revealed that all was not perfect in the union between Sarah and her spouse, but for the most part, it was good. There was the occasional unkind dig, but the bulk of what she found revealed mutual love, respect, and caring. At the bottom of the stack, she found a faded Polaroid with a note written in a feminine hand on the back. It read, “Waiting, for you to come home!” It was dated almost exactly 24 years earlier, to the day. The woman in the photo was her mother. In it, she wore nothing but an unbuttoned, blue plaid flannel shirt. Sara recognized the shirt as one of his that still hung in the closet.

Sara’s heart began to race, and her face got hot as she intruded into the private lives of her parents so long ago.

This week’s prompts were:

  1. gently used love letters
  2. be still my heart
  3. bottom of the deck

Carrot Ranch · writing

Somewhere In the South China Sea

-for the November 11: Flash Fiction Challenge

Weekly ops,
somewhere in the South China Sea.
Out on Sunday,
in Saturday around 1000.

Somebody fucked up. I’m not one
to point fingers, but
my normal watch rotation was
six hours on / twelve hours off.
It morphed into seven days on…

It was Thursday night, maybe 2200 GMT
Our depth – four hundred feet
the Captain slid the pocket door open
found me leaning in the inboard forward corner.

“How long you been on watch Dad?”
“Five days,” I answered.
“Carry on,” he said, then backed out
back into the passageway
sliding the door shut.

In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the phrase “carry on.” It can be an expression of perseverance or behaving in a particular way. It can even be luggage you take when traveling. Go where the prompt leads!