Flashback: Ghosts
My Microcosms 74 flash entry. Joint Community Pick and HM from the Judge. Not bad when trying to combine my elements from the spinner which threw Pegasus, Thule and horror at me. If you like writing flash, why not join in? Microcosms is every Friday and offers the chance not only of being selected by the Judge but also by the community.
Ghosts
“Land!”
Weary eyes followed the boy’s directions. A mass of white slowly loomed into focus, stark against the ink of night. The crew shrugged their shoulders and turned away. It was just another iceberg.
Only the Captain paid any attention. He had not quite given up. Slowly the ship drifted towards the frozen mound, the temperature dropping so that by the time they reached the hostile shoreline frost dusted his men, transformed them into ghosts.
“Thule, Captain.”
The mysterious island of the northern wastes. “Prepare to go ashore,” he ordered.
“But Captain, the stories …”
He looked sadly at his men, his ghosts. “We have no choice. No food, little water. Here—we might have a chance.” Then he looked back at the ocean, the never-ending emptiness and they saw it with him.
It was as bleak as expected, ice and barren rock, but they found an easy path leading them inland. Soon snow started to fall, obscured their vision. The group huddled together as the flurry became a blizzard.
“Did you see it?”
The Captain turned.
“A horse,” said the man, pointing. “I saw a horse!”
The Captain looked in the same direction. Could see a shape that might be a horse, might not. Might be false hope.
“A horse, Captain!” Others were pointing now and they could all clearly see the creature, whiter than anything they had ever seen before. “It must come from somewhere.”
Hope sparked dead eyes. Until the horse stretched out impossible wings.
“Pegasus,” said the crew, voices awed.
“We can never follow him,” said one sailor. “He belongs to the spirit world.”
But the Captain smiled. That was no longer a problem. The storm had dropped and the horse led them on. It left no mark on the snow. And they left no footprints.
Ghosts
“Land!”
Weary eyes followed the boy’s directions. A mass of white slowly loomed into focus, stark against the ink of night. The crew shrugged their shoulders and turned away. It was just another iceberg.
Only the Captain paid any attention. He had not quite given up. Slowly the ship drifted towards the frozen mound, the temperature dropping so that by the time they reached the hostile shoreline frost dusted his men, transformed them into ghosts.
“Thule, Captain.”
The mysterious island of the northern wastes. “Prepare to go ashore,” he ordered.
“But Captain, the stories …”
He looked sadly at his men, his ghosts. “We have no choice. No food, little water. Here—we might have a chance.” Then he looked back at the ocean, the never-ending emptiness and they saw it with him.
It was as bleak as expected, ice and barren rock, but they found an easy path leading them inland. Soon snow started to fall, obscured their vision. The group huddled together as the flurry became a blizzard.
“Did you see it?”
The Captain turned.
“A horse,” said the man, pointing. “I saw a horse!”
The Captain looked in the same direction. Could see a shape that might be a horse, might not. Might be false hope.
“A horse, Captain!” Others were pointing now and they could all clearly see the creature, whiter than anything they had ever seen before. “It must come from somewhere.”
Hope sparked dead eyes. Until the horse stretched out impossible wings.
“Pegasus,” said the crew, voices awed.
“We can never follow him,” said one sailor. “He belongs to the spirit world.”
But the Captain smiled. That was no longer a problem. The storm had dropped and the horse led them on. It left no mark on the snow. And they left no footprints.
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