Hurricane Season

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog link-up led by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields at Addicted to PurpleThe Challenge – write a one hundred word (plus or minus) story with a beginning, middle, and end inspired by the picture. The Key – make every word count.

The picture is worth a thousand words. These are another one hundred.



She threw a frayed rope towards shore
And disembarked with her First Mate.
More like jumped…
Their life raft lost to the sea long ago.
They moored the ship on hope and a prayer.

But it was hurricane season,
And the captain and her first mate were separated.
He underground to a structure
Safe, though crowded.
Her to the will of a tribe she did not choose,
Subject to the furiosity and the hope
Of the wall and an eye.

When the sky fell, she was free to set sail.

But her ship sits sunken, secured by a mighty chain.


100 words — for Rara. Rara needs some of that #RawrLove she’s sent out to come back to her. Won’t you be her boomerang? Click on the adorable dino below if you are able to give. ↓


Feedback is always appreciated. Comments of any kind really — so long as they are related to the post. Click below to read other creative contributions. ↓

*Image Copyright © C. Hase
**The ads (which may appear) below are not mine, but they keep this free for me. Do with them as you choose.


25 thoughts on “Hurricane Season

      • I’ve got a really funny story about huge chain. When I was trucking I was dispatched one day to pick up a railroad trailer (piggyback) in Boston and take it to a potash mine in Sussex New Brunswick. Inside were pallets of huge chain – 4 links filled the each pallet and weighed about 2,000 pounds. There were 20 pallets in the trailer. The chain was used to haul the big baskets of ore up a shaft and out of the mine. Anyway, The manufacturer of the chain was in Ohio and when they had loaded the trailer they had sprayed the chain, in the trailer, with a fine motor oil to stop rusting or corrosion. The floor of the trailer was hardwood (most vans were) and unbeknownst to me the light oil had soaked into the floor boards. The receivers had unloaded the chain without me getting into the trailer- the floor just looked very clean and shiny. Ha! When empty, I was dispatched to Moosehead Breweries in St. John New Brunswick to pick up a load of beer going to the US. The cases of beer was palletized and loaded with a forklift. The loading dock was configured to let water drain away from the building, so it was sloped such that it was downhill into the trailer. A very funny old timer was driving the forklift and when i gave him my load info he said he would have it loaded quickly. He was driving very fast with the first pallet of beer,going into the trailer – knowing exactly how far it took him to stop. I wasn’t watching but I heard the forklift engine stop and then a loud “SSSSSSSSSS”. A few seconds later there was a “BOOM!” Confused, I looked into the trailer to see what was happening. The sound of loud laughter rang from the trailer, along with the tinkling of broken glass settling. The forklift driver had tried stopping part way down the trailer, but the floor was so slippery with oil that his wheels had stopped and he slid right into the front bulkhead of the trailer – beer first. The pallet exploded, spraying beer and glass all over the front of the trailer. He was still laughing when i ran to the front to make sure he was OK. He was laughing so hard that tears were running down his face. “Boy you sure got me that time, oiling the floor! Never had that happen before. Learn something new everyday.” At which point he burst into laughter yet again. Anyway, we cleaned up he mess and he took the pallet away and got a new one. I apologized to him, making sure he knew that I did not know the floor was oiled.


          • Thanks Susan – I was worried at first but the forklift driver couldn’t stop laughing. He was a hoot. We broke about 1/4 of the bottles on the pallet. I loved hauling Moose head beer to the States because it is “Imported” there and sells for a premium. Which means a lot of money floated around those who handled it. It paid more by the mile to haul into the US than Canada, and best of all was that the importers had a government licences so they ran monopolies – which meant more money still. For us that meant easy unloading and best of all they all had damage fridges – where they put the single bottles that survived from broken or dropped cases. And they gave them away free of charge. A load of Moosehead to the States inevitably meant a free case of beer with singles from a dozen countries. We were paid by weight and made enough on Florida runs that we could load heavy and if caught, pay the fine and still be ahead in profits. Good loads.

            Thanks for the comment Susan.


            • It’s always so interesting to hear about the other side of things, like how expensive beer got to be so.


        • Oh no! Thank goodness he wasn’t hurt. That is too funny. I can just see it now. I bet he watched his speed after that.


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