As soon as the last guest left Clara locked the door and meticulously cleaned the bar. She washed the glasses and swept the floor.
Thirty minutes later she left her apron on a hook, grabbed her handbag and walked the few blocks to the harbor. She quickened her pace when she saw the familiar silhouette of “Aurora”.
She hailed the first mate:
“Steve, tell Johnny I’m waiting”.
Clara knew from his silence.
“Was it the fever or a fight?”
“Sorry, Johnny stayed in Valparaiso… his wife became pregnant”.
“Me too”, she thought.
The harbor made me think of the waiting of every sailor’s sweetheart waiting for a ship to come in.
I’m back to writing after a short break, and took the simple way of writing a simple story this time. Friday Fictioneers is a group of bloggers who tirelessly write hundred word stories to a new picture every week. Rochelle selects the picture and set the example in how fiction should be written.
July 25 2018