The Passing of the Storm – Friday Fictioneers, October 2020

Copyright Sandra Crook

The storm passed, as storms always do.

It’s hard to believe this though, when doors slam, windows rattle and shrieking winds of despair blow a hoolie through the nooks and crannies of our home.

Next morning clouds scudded across a dazzling sky, and waves, still seemingly unsettled by the events of the previous night, crashed nervously against the rocks.

We shuffled through pungent seaweed, me clinging to my father’s hand.

“She will come back, won’t she?” I faltered.

“When she’s ready, son… in her own time…”

That time never came, and my father tired of waiting.

As did I, eventually.

 

Our seaside town, though on the south coast of England, faces east on a peninsula.  When we get spring tides it’s not unusual to wake up this kind of scenario.  Only days after this, high tide combined with strong easterlies, redecorated the entire seafront with stones, rocks and pebbles and sweeping away some of our lovely beach huts.  Seldom a dull moment on or near water, I’ve always found.  Friday Fictioneers, under the leadership of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, is also a pretty lively scene if anyone wants to join us with a 100 word story in response to a photo prompt each week.

About Sandra

I used to cruise the French waterways with my husband four or five months a year, and wrote fiction and poetry. Now I live on the beautiful Dorset coast, enjoying the luxury of being able to have a cat, cultivating an extensive garden and getting involved in the community. I still write fiction, but only when the spirit moves me - which isn't as often as before. I love animals, F1 motor racing, French bread and my husband, though not necessarily in that order.
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65 Responses to The Passing of the Storm – Friday Fictioneers, October 2020

  1. neilmacdon says:

    A very satisfying story, Sandra. Everything has its season

    Like

  2. ceayr says:

    You break my heart with indifference and apparent ease.
    Wonderful.
    And our storms removed many of the beaches.
    Somewhere out there is a whole lot of sand…

    Like

  3. Tannille says:

    Reminds me of the eye of a storm (cyclones). Everything is eerily quiet after ravaging, sun might be out, and wham the storm returns. Great atmosphere in this story.

    Like

  4. Dear Sandra,

    You made me think of my dad with his explosive temper. When he was calm, he was funny and entertaining…then there were those “other times.” Love the direction you took your story. So brilliantly described.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Poignant story, beautifully written, Sandra. Loved this.
    I too live on the coast and seaweed on my local beach is normal, plus it attracts wildlife, so I’m all for it.

    Susan A Eames at
    Travel, Fiction and Photos

    Like

    • Sandra says:

      Yes, I quite like seaweed. Perhaps not quite so deep as this was, but nevertheless there’s something very appealing about the way it sprawls over the beach.

      Like

  6. Dale says:

    Wonderfully written, Sandra. And thanks for the great photo!
    A sad reality – lost pets (or people) during violent storms.

    Like

  7. Sue says:

    Calmly tragic

    Like

  8. bearmkwa says:

    Wow, what a scary scene. I love a good storm, but within safe limits. Love the photo you shared. Tried to get it to upload for my story, but it wouldn’t download, nor upload with this new WP format. Grr… Still, it was an inspiring photog! Thanks!

    Like

    • Sandra says:

      I’ve only had a quick glimpse at the new Block Editor but couldn’t see where the picture prompt would be added either. I took the option to remain with the Classic Editor version, but I guess I’ll have to tackle it sooner or later.

      Liked by 1 person

      • bearmkwa says:

        you have to scroll down either through the little black plus sign at the right or the upper left blue plus sign. either way, it won’t let me upload, or download to my desktop to upload again. I like to keep the pics with the stories in my fri fic folder for future reference. I used to go every week and print the pic and story for my notebook, but library has been closed for months now.

        Like

  9. And yet, it is my favorite kind of place to hope to live in. One day. Just need to build sturdily enough and be content with damp and wet and sand. 🙂 LOVELY

    Liked by 1 person

  10. granonine says:

    The sadness of the storm is eclipsed by the sadness of what I’m assuming is a wife/mom who never came back. Well done.

    Like

  11. I guessed it was not far from Hove where I grew up, walking the seafront in stormy weather as an angsty teenager.

    Like

  12. oldentimes says:

    Incredibly well done!

    Like

  13. Very evocative. A really good job of creating a scene and mood. By the way, what is a hoolie?

    Like

  14. elmowrites says:

    Lovely use of analogy, Sandra, and I hope the child in the story found that when storms pass, they leave beauty as well as seaweed.

    Like

  15. Vivid and sad. I love the sea too. Well worth the risks involved. Might be better to rent than own these days 🙂

    Like

  16. Iain Kelly says:

    A great analogy Sandra, expertly done.

    Like

  17. I too live on the South coast so this really hit home with me, even more so, as sadly a body was discovered on the beach a few days ago near my home. A poignant piece indeed.

    Here’s mine!

    Like

  18. pennygadd51 says:

    Heart-breaking, Sandra. Beautifully told.

    Like

  19. Dora says:

    Heart-breakingly tender vignette, Sandra, and one with hope for a healing peace, eventually. Thank you for the great photo prompt, by the way!

    Like

  20. plaridel says:

    what a heartbreaking story. it was time to move on indeed.

    Like

  21. subroto says:

    What an apt analogy about the storm that rages in a person life, there are stories within stories in this one. Beautifully done as always.

    Liked by 1 person

  22. draliman says:

    A storm within and without. Nice one.

    Like

  23. Anita says:

    Sad when storms do this.
    Took away the lady of the house.
    Hope she comes back…

    Like

  24. Danny James says:

    A hollie. Thanks! A new word to use and amaze my friends.

    Like

  25. A wonderfully written story with powerful meanings framed within.
    A great read, Sandra. I shall call you wordsmith. Have a great day … Be Safe
    Isadora 😎

    Like

  26. I knew from the first line that this was going to be good and you didn’t disappoint.

    Like

  27. Nobbinmaug says:

    I’m conflicted about whether to read this metaphorically or literally. Either way, well done.

    Like

  28. msjadeli says:

    Having lived near the water most of my life, I can attest to the interesting times. It’s a pity she never returned, but maybe it was for the best.

    Like

  29. robprice59 says:

    I like it Sandra

    Like

  30. What a vivid picture you’ve painted with this piece. I can literally see the house.

    Like

  31. notestowomen says:

    Beautifully story, Sandra. Great photo too.

    Like

  32. notestowomen says:

    Sorry, I meant to say, “beautifully written.”

    Like

I'd love to hear your views; it reassures me I'm not talking to myself.

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