Kreative Kue 236 asked for submissions based on this photograph:
John W Howell is the author of the John Cannon trilogy of My GRL, His Revenge, Our Justice and Circumstances of Childhood, co-author of The Contract, and blogs at Fiction Favorites.
“Are you sure no one’s home?”
“At ease, matey. I watched them leave. This time of day, they won’t be back for hours. Now just look at the treasure, will ya?”
“This stuff makes the copper monkey look cheap.”
“That’s right. All we have to do is load this stuff up, and we have made hundreds.”
“Let me drop this drape over here.”
“OMG, look at all the nautical stuff on it.”
“This guy must have been a sea captain. Look that these fishing nets too.”
“How do you use em?”
“Well, this one is for hauling in a big fish that you have on the line. It pretty much makes sure the hook doesn’t come out with the weight of the fish.”
“What about this one.”
“I think it is a landing net as well but can be used to scoop fish out of the water.”
“Okay, enough net lessons, let’s get to the copper.”
“Whoa, this desk is heavy.”
“This globe and sailboat are light. I’ll take them out.”
“Wait a minute. Help me with the desk.”
“Take out the drawers, and it will be easier.”“Well, what are we going to do then?”“I guess the two of us need to lift it.”“Not going to happen. I have a bad back.”“Bad back. Since when?”“Two minutes ago. Let’s leave it. I say these nets the globe, clock, and sailboat are more than enough.”“Enough for what?”“Start our own fishing company.”“I can’t believe you, and I are partners.”“I know, right? I’m so brilliant, and you? Well, you are you.”“Maybe we should think about a boat.”“There’s a nice one down the street. Let’s go.”“After you, Einstein.”“Get that shade will ya.”
Na’ama Yehuda, who blogs at https://naamayehuda.com penned this tale:
She leaned back, took a long look around, and sighed in satisfaction.
He’d love it. She was sure he would.
It took three full weeks and dozens of hours, but now every piece of paper he’d ever owned was alphabetized and catalogued. The photos organized by color, location, and main character. The receipts tagged and ranked by preference: favorite things first, the things he’d never order again, last.
He was due home by nightfall. She could only imagine his delight.
The office was transformed. So was the garage. She even organized the nets and oar for an artistic touch. Bronzed all his mementos so they matched.
No more desk and drawers. No more folders. No more boxes with a mishmash of photos and cards. Goodbye to letters stacked together by arbitrary designations of correspondence, when they could be more logically sorted by zip code (or when there was none noted, ordered alphabetically by addressee’s given name and divided by paper-type).
It had been a Herculean task, but she was undaunted. Who but her would take it on to help him out?
She couldn’t wait to show him how she’d got him all caught up.
My effort was
I’ve always been a mad-keen fisherman. Not just me either. If anything, my boy was even worse. Used to drive the missus mad, it did. We’d be out every day we could, sometimes starting as early as three in the morning, sometimes not getting back much before daylight. Night fishing was a thing for us. Joe, my son, reckoned the fish bit better when they were half-asleep. Don’t know that there was any science to back that up, but the trend these days seems anyway to be to ignore or even ridicule science if it doesn’t say what you want to hear. But Joe loved to be out there at night and I loved Joe, so who was I to argue?
After a while, my wife, Joan, seemed to get used to what we were doing and stopped complaining or tutting every time fishing was mentioned. From that day on, if anyone ever deserved the title longsuffering it was her. Flipping saint, if you ask me. Never once complained; always happy to make sandwiches and flasks for us. The only thing she asked is that we stuck to what we said. If we said we’d be back at daybreak, she didn’t want to see us if it was still dark. If we said we were going to be out all day, woe betide us if we got back before she expected us. We had to leave when we said we would, as well. At one time I even thought she was glad to see the back of us, but she explained that it was just a case of keeping us honest to our word – and that was an important life lesson for Joe. I couldn’t argue against that, could I? The house was always spotless when we got back and dinners were somehow nicer after our trips, especially the long ones – one time we were away for three days straight and Joan was ever-so attentive and loving after we’d got back. I could tell she’d really missed us.
Joan was, I always thought, a lot more tolerant of our fishing trips than most of our neighbours and friends. Seemed to me any time I saw any of them in the street they wouldn’t look me in the eye – and I’m sure they were saying all sorts of things behind our backs when Joe and I set off for any of our trips. But maybe I’m being silly.
Joe’s all grown up and left home now. Got a family of his own, he has, and made me a granddad three times over. I’m so proud. Joan insisted I carry on fishing, with or without him. She thinks I still enjoy it, though it’s not the same on my own as it was with Joe. I think she just wants me out of the way so she can get on with her housework in peace. I can tell she appreciates it, though.
You know; the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that there couldn’t be a more loving wife than Joan when I get back. Not loving like – you-know – we haven’t done that for years, but caring and attentive. Sometimes I wonder what I’ve done to deserve such a wonderful wife.
I just wish I knew why all the neighbours look at me so strangely…
On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at email@example.com before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.