Good day everyone!
This week's flash fiction short story is going to be a bit different from my normal posts. I've revised an older story from August 2023, which was from before the weekly story writing contest I normally partake in started. This story was also based on a prompt where the goal is to complete the story using a story starter. That's the first three lines of the story. This one's a bit out of my wheelhouse, but I hope you like it nonetheless!
On the cusp of a long draw from his cigarette, the tankerman slaps his palm against a crate. "Figure 'bout ten-forty will do it."
The customer looks side to side as if expecting someone to ascend from the river and onto his barge.
"What's the matter?" the tankerman asks, "Ain't a soul but me and the salvage on board."
The customer still doesn’t answer, glancing behind the tankerman.
“If this is yer attempt at stealin’ my inventory, yer not foolin’ me.”
A loud sound suddenly comes from behind the barge, an electrical buzzing.
“Damn it!”
The actors turn to look at the director, and see the look on his face. They both look behind the barge and see the eldritch horror has broken down, again.
“How the hell are we gonna put on this show if the damn Lovecraftian horror can’t actually come from behind the boat?”
Arnold, the tankerman, clears his throat, “Do you know what’s wrong with it?”
“Something breaks every time, no matter what we fix.”
Sam, the customer, shrugs, “The scene is a black out afterwards, and then we’re both dead. Why not just try some light effects?”
“Because we worked so hard to get to this point, and spent lots of money.” The director sighs.
“Yea yea, you’re gonna wanna make it back. Have some stage crew manually lift it. It’s only light wood if you take off all the electronics,” Sam says.
“We can’t waste time trying to fix the mechanics, the show starts in three hours,” Arnold says.
“Let’s try just one more time,” the director says.
The actors nod and head back to their places, starting the blocking over again.
On the cusp of a long draw from his cigarette, the tankerman slaps his palm against a crate. "Figure 'bout ten-forty will do it."
The customer looks side to side as if expecting someone to ascend from the river and onto his barge.
"What's the matter?" the tankerman asks, "Ain't a soul but me and the salvage on board."
The customer still doesn’t answer, glancing behind the tankerman.
“If this is yer attempt at stealin’ my inventory, yer not foolin’ me.”
A loud sound suddenly comes from behind the barge, the roaring waves filling the stage and the scream of a monster.
The tankerman and customer both scream, genuinely, and try to hide behind the crate of salvage.
“What is that thing..?” the customer asks.
“I’ve no damn idea…” the tankman answers.
The lights on stage start to dim as the monster looms closer to the actors, and eventually go black.
“It worked!” the director claps as the lights fade in again, “I can’t believe it finally worked.”
Arnold and Sam share an uneasy glance, unsure if the monster would work once the show actually happened. But hey, that’s the joy of live theater.
Hope you enjoyed this throwback story! See you next week.
-Rosetta 💖
Image By Anne Nygård
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