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Blood and Sand

9 May 2011

This little bit of microfiction didn’t start out that way.  In fact, it didn’t start out as anything at all. You see, I’ve recently gotten a little Android tablet, mostly for pulling up Ukelele chords and recipes in the kitchen, and other such fun stuff. I was just playing about with it, getting used to the keyboard, I started tapping away, not really paying attention.  I’d done about a paragraph of this when I noticed a theme to the nonsense sentences. Enjoying the experience (experiment, if you will) I kept writing. Something like to a story came out. It was disjointed and awkwardly phrased, but I found I liked it that way.  It worked for me. I named it “The Shore” and decided to call it a tiny story.

Skip to today – I’ve decided to do everything for this story on my tablet. So as I’m using the WordPress app to post it, I realised- in a flash, if you will – that it works with the title I’d picked out for my friend Chuck’s Booze-themed microfiction challenge. One title change later, Chuck has another story! …only three weeks late.


Your swallowing motions tell me all I could possibly need to know.  Won’t you come to the shore with me? I cannot imagine anything better, truly. I don’t think I should like anything so much as your love and approval.  Failing that, your blood soaking the sand should do.

Imagine us, together, with our big picnic basket. Don’t worry yourself about a thing. That?  Why it is only the wind. This is a place for rest and ease and healing. This lemonade is freshly-made. Shh, just lay back, there’s a good love. The doctor said the seaside would do you good.

I rather think we ought to listen to the doctor. Don’t you?

Don’t sulk, my love. No-one likes the silent treatment.