Flash Fiction: Docked

(This is an original piece written for IndiesUnlimited.com‘s Weekly Flash Fiction Contest. The prompt was Docked.)

It wasn’t pleasant sleep. Adam laid uncomfortably on the fringe of consciousness. Seasick, he curled on the cot, knees to his chin and clutching his middle. The sway of the charter lulled him to a fragile slumber.


He kept his eyes shut when he rolled them. Sighing, his eyelids cracked.

“We’re here!”

Her statement annoyed him more than it should have. We’re always here, he thought.

Lucy leaned halfway down the staircase calling into the cabin. Her red hair was a seagull’s nest and she chased flapping strands with her fingers. She raced back to the main deck while Adam dragged behind.

As cold punched his cheeks and winds jostled his clothes, he became suddenly and dreadfully aware of gravity. His weight concentrated on the floor and his arms stretched for balance as he peered over the railing to disprove astonishment. The boat was sailing through midair.

He braved a glance to catch jaded rocks with scarce foliage miles below. The vessel moved as if upon sea but he concluded it must’ve been the result of winds impersonating waves. On the empty side of a cliff, they neared a dock. Lucy leaned as if guiding the way, unfazed and overjoyed, while Adam gripped fearfully. Illness revolted with fury.

“Where are we?” he groaned as the crew leapt onto the ledge to reel them in.

Lucy’s eagerness deafened her. Adam couldn’t budge.  

“Adam!” cried Lucy, “We’re here!”

He kept his eyes shut when he rolled them. Sighing, his eyelids cracked.

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