The Houseboat

As previously mentioned, I completed a short Creative Writing course recently.

During the course, I wrote a few really short stories. It was great to be put on the spot, and force something to come out. It has also given me heaps of great ideas and new writing techniques.

So I’ll share some of these stories over the coming weeks.

The first one is very tiny, and I wrote it in about ten minutes.

 


The Houseboat


For Matt


With a crunch he pulls on the gear stick and the houseboat motors stop. It continues to glide smoothly across the surface of the lake.

A waft of petrol hits him and he enjoys it.

All around, hot, dry air. Distant brown hills scorched by the white-hot sun. The hum of cicadas. The slap of water against the side of the boat.

He breathes in deeply, trying to calm his heart rate down. Slowly it starts to wind down along with the boat’s motors.

A swig of beer, and he slides open the fly screen door, stepping on bare feet out onto the white, painted front deck. He feels the burn of the sun seep into his skin immediately.

It’s quiet and still out in the centre of the lake where the houseboat has stopped. There are distant boat engines, and he takes comfort in those far off noises.

Out here, no one can get to him.

Out here, he doesn’t have to be anyone.

He can just be.

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