"Seeking A Man Who Enjoys The Beach, Seafood..." (oh, and WINNER!)

by Michael Seese

I never get tired of seeing the word "WINNER." Especially in conjunction with my name. But I'm proud to say I've joined one of the few three-time winners over at Flash! Friday. 

And I was really touched by the comments of judge Aria Glazki.

The dialogue that isn’t dialogue is the brilliance of this piece. In retrospect, the initial image sets up the possibility of both murder and suicide, but the following lines appear to be the internal dialogue and uncertainty of someone in desperate straights, contemplating something equally desperate. Only when she decides to say no, to find that inner strength, do we learn her demons aren’t internal but are in fact the physical and very distinct presence of her lover; that this back and forth isn’t her attempt to make a decision but a literal devil’s advocate, who is willing to take more drastic measures when the subtlety of conversation is insufficient. The twist of the ending that nevertheless makes such undeniable sense, conveyed through a risky yet perfect stylistic choice, steals your breath with the final line.

(OK bolding "brilliance" was my idea.)

Wow. Truly, I'm touched.

Then on Monday it was over to FINISH THAT THOUGHT for 500 words. Our first sentence was "The day it all began, the sky [was gray and rainy]."

And the special challenge was to include 2 or more of the following:

1. A map
2. A number
3. An alien (or aliens)
4. A made-up word
5. A question

So here is "Seeking A Man Who Enjoys The Beach, Seafood..."


The day it all began, the sky was gray and rainy.

The perfect metaphor for our relationship. I swear, I am never answering a singles ad again.

Seeking a man who enjoys the beach, seafood, and quiet, cetantary evenings.

“Cetantary?” Is that even a word? That should have been my first clue.

But I ignored it—as well as all sense of reason—and dialed the number.

“Heigh ho!” the voice chirped. That should have been my second clue.

After about two minutes of alien conversation, I realized I’d need a map to find her brain. And yet, I couldn’t hang up. We talked for another few indeterminate number of seconds, then agreed to meet. She asked if I could pick her up at the pier. She said she’d be out front, in all gray. That should have been my third clue.

For our first date, I planned a picnic. Why? I don’t know. I think I read somewhere that chicks like those kinds of things. Probably on the cover of one of those glossy, air-headed, chick magazines.

When I got there, it wasn’t hard to find the “pewter woman.” I honked. She hopped in, and kissed me. On the mouth. Hard. (By this time, I had stopped counting the clues.)

“Where’s the basket with the food?” I asked.

She pulled from her purse a can of sardines.

“That’s it?” I said, “What the F! I said we were going on a picnic. You’re the chick. Food’s a chick thing, right?”

“I’m sorry. Would you have preferred calamari?”

“Never mind,” I grumbled, peeling away from the curb.

We drove in silence. Well, not actual silence. She kept making this weird whistling and clicking noise.

At the park we settled down and (sort of) enjoyed the sardines. I tried to make small talk, something I was never good at.

“So, are you close to your folks?”

“Not really. I haven’t seen them in years. But I hang with my friends from school.”

“That’s nice. So, what do you like to do?”

“Whatever you do. I’m new at this.”

I quickly grew bored with the conversation, which tells you something. Soon, it began to rain. She started making that noise again.

“This is just perfect,” I muttered.

“It is!” she gushed. “Now I don’t have to be back for another hour!”

All things considered, it was one of the best dates I ever had.

OK, so she’s strange. She talks funny. She tends to slide off the bed a lot. And when she lands, you hear it. That’s not surprising, though, considering she weighs 450 pounds.

So why am I with her?

For some reason, or maybe several reasons, women don’t seem to like me all that much. But Delphina does.

On the one hand, she’s been a great wife. On the other hand, our water bills are HUGE. I’ve learned to accept it. But I imagine a lot of people rue the day dolphins learned to walk. And speak English.
 


Please share your thoughts on this story.

Two In A Row

By Michael Seese

First the commercial:

I recently published a long short story, Rebecca's Fall From... to Amazon. Tomorrow (Wednesday) it is free. (Otherwise, it's $0.99.) If you've got a few minutes, PLEASE download a copy. Truthfully, I would love to hear your feedback.

Why is it free on Wednesday, you ask? 

Because I am celebrating TWO WINS IN A ROW!

I didn't get a chance to post my latest Flash! Friday entry on Friday or Saturday, because we took our trip to the Century Inn for the music party. (Loads of fun.) By the time we returned on Sunday, I learned my short story, "Alone" had won. I am only the second two-in-a-row winner.

This is the photo we worked from:

Here is "Alone."

They’re all dead. And it’s my responsibility. Mine alone. I am the Captain, after all.

The scalding sands -- and the memory -- may well have been the fires of Hell. With no clouds above, the sun is a relentless, yet honest, adversary. I wondered if I had erred. Should I have done otherwise?

When setting sail, some of the more superstitious men voiced concerns.

“Trafficking is wrong.”

“They’re just children.”

“Using them like that is against the laws of man. And God.”

But lucre has a way of muting morality.

As the storm turned their ship into kindling and their bodies into chum, the crew looked to me for guidance. They prayed I would help. I turned a blind eye. Indeed, not only did I ignore their pleas, I doubled my vengeance. Because they were right. Their actions were against the laws of man.

And God.

Such is the burden I bear as the Captain of all men.

And here are the comments of judge Aria Glazki.

Where do I even start with this story? It stayed with me as I read the others, which may say it all. “Lucre has a way of muting morality” is a very strong center for this piece — that awareness of man’s fallibility, while also a distance from understanding that draw of riches, highlighting the difference between man and God, in a story that on the surface only likens the two.

The initial misdirect of the Captain’s involvement that makes such perfect sense in retrospect; the repetition of the line “against the laws of man. And God,” coming first from the doubt of those involved in a heinous choice, and second from the weary resignation of the one charged with being the “Captain of all men”; the chilling and poignant message of the burden inherent in being God; the pain and the solitude of being the one responsible… Overall, there’s just so much in these few words.

Was the Captain arrogant in creating man? Were the men arrogant in praying to the Captain while knowing they broke those aforementioned laws? Is the very expectation of them being good, and the vengeance that follows when they’re not, also arrogant? An answer isn’t simple in this incredibly complex, thought-provoking story.
 

My interview will be posted here tomorrow.

And as always, feel free to share your thoughts on "Alone."