Writing Prompt 17: Stagecoach
I Haven’t Seen You in Awhile
We’re far away from Loch Lomond, a freshwater loch which crosses the boundary between the Lowlands of Central Scotland and the Highlands. But this stage coach might have come from there, brought over on a tall ship when the world was a quite different place.
What do you see here for a story? Anything worthwhile?
The cold water lapped about Iona's body slapping her stomach when a wave curled over her as a boat puttered past.
She waved her arms up and down beside her, slowly, while gazing at the sky. She enjoyed the way sound stopped and started as the water sank in and out of her ears. After a time she curled her knees up and righted her body and began treading water looking about her. The shore of the island was far from her now. She'd drifted without thinking out into the middle of the lake.
Her children busied themselves, paddling in the shallows, building castles from rocks and pebbles. This wasn't a beach for a sandcastle.
The water her toes reached was cold. Deep and cold. The clear water of earlier and shifted into something murkier. Her toes disappeared beneath her. She reached down keeping her face above the water feeling for her feet. Still there. She wriggled her toes. The chill was settling in. She began to swim toward her children.
Her sister waved at her standing in a too-small bikini with her hands on her hips. Watching. Iona pushed the water in front of her and then away in a breaststroke. Not the fastest way to get to land but she could save some energy.
More people gathered along the beach. What were they looking at? Her sister pointed while talking to their brother. He was running into the water. Iona dipped her head into the coolness for a moment, resting. She was lucky. The hands of her brother reached her before she disappeared forever.
Story first posted August 2020 / Photo: Tanya Clarke - Log Barn 1912, Armstrong, BC 2020
