Tuesday Tales: 2020-11-17 Writing Sick

Welcome to Tuesday Tales, where you’ll find entertaining excerpts from a group of hard-working writers. You can enjoy stories and see works in progress unfold. This week’s word prompt is sick. Make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.

Her current troubles had pressed hard all week, and Bertha had sworn she looked peaked and was coming down sick. Out here on the water, though, she allowed herself to relax. The yellow sun warmed her face. The gentle sway of the boat coddled her body. Her soul stretched lazily, soothed by the natural sounds of the country lake. Like grains of dust, thoughts and worries slipped from her mind. Her eyelids settled, and she nestled into a blissful serenity.

The fishing pole jerking away from her brought Rosemary to an abrupt alertness. The pole slid toward the bow, catching and bending between the seat and edge of the boat. She lurched after it, grabbing it just as it wiggled free.

“Oh no you don’t,” she admonished the fish she had hooked. “No getting away for you. You’re mine now.” The power from the other end amazed her. If it turned out to be the iconic Big Bruiser on the line, the guys from the fishing club were never going to believe it—unless she brought in the catch. She couldn’t let it off. Her lips quivered in anticipation. Lurching back into the seat and planting her feet, she clutched strenuously at the pole.

Shadows played over the boat. Looking up, the line of trees off to the side startled her. Brow furrowed, she considered. Thoughts tumbled over one other. How long had she been asleep? She had drifted back awfully close to shore. Nah, she hadn’t been sleeping, not really. Just relaxing. Odd for a big one to be so close to land though.

Perplexed, she peered over the edge, seeking a glimpse of her prize. The line pulled again, and then the pressure seemed to stick. She stood and looked overboard, following the line from the pole and beneath the boat. Gasping, she maneuvered the pole to position the line on the other side. Looser now, it bobbled a few times and then came free. Plopping down on her seat, she brought it in, studying it quizzically. No fish. No bait. Not even a hook.

Just then a shape surged up from the water. A stranger, appearing muscular and fit, from what she could see. He yanked off a snorkel mask, sucked in a spate of air, and began a vigorous bout of coughing and spluttering.  Rosemary reached out to help him aboard. His hand shot out in refusal, stopping her short. Furious gray eyes bored into hers.

I hope you enjoyed the snippet based on the word prompt sick. Thanks for stopping by. Read the other amazing excerpts at Tuesday Tales.

Cheers & Happy Reading!

Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories

All rights reserved, copyright @ 2020 Flossie Benton Rogers

By Flossie Benton Rogers

Paranormal romance author who loves to shake the edges of reality.

13 comments

  1. I love it! What a great surprise! She hooked maybe the best fish of all, a handsome man!! Great episode. Can’t wait for m ore!

  2. Ooops! She did catch herself a big one! I love the way you described her struggle with the pole. I can’t wait to see what her catch has to say! Great job!

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