November 2008
Something to Do With Sebastian by Douglas Lind
A Rainy Night of Density with a Reckless Neurotic by Richey Piiparinen
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DEADLINES: AN ANTHOLOGY OF HORROR AND DARK FICTION, will be released in November of 2008! Visit www.cometpress.us
Sail Away
by Bill West
Bill West lives in Shropshire, England. He is a member of the Bridgnorth Writers' Group, I*D Writers' Group and a number of on-line Writers' Communities. His work has appeared in Crimson Highway, Thirteen Magazine, FlashQuake, Mytholog, Heavy Glow, Right Hand Pointing, 21 Stars Review, Zygote in my coffee U-R Paranormal, Bewildering Stories and other places. http://www.writewords.org.uk/bill_west/
I finish erecting the tent. It looks like any other at the lakeside camp, but solitary; a green dome amongst the gloom cast by trees. There is a note inside, weighted down with a bottle.
I plug the plastic air pump's adaptor into the car's cigarette lighter. It whines as the dinghy inflates. My boat unfurls. It has three air chambers, inner, outer and a floor panel "for comfort".
I carry the boat between the trees that fringe the lake. Searching the beach I find my “sea-anchor”, a cinder-block with some cord tied to it. I sit on a rock and look about for the last time.
Long ago the lake washed a layer of soil away. Now each tree stands on a filigree of roots twisting in dry air.
They look ghostly, as if frozen mid-step. Turn away and they might continue to march down the beach towards the waterline. One tree has tipped over, prostrate on gnarled elbows, its leafy head bobbing above the water, like a dying man reaching for a drink.
I imagine a time before. Clear water lapping around the elephantine base of an oak tree, fish darting between snake roots. Now spiders spin their nets within the dry tangle. The trunk, pallid with lichen, the uppermost knuckles of root plush with cushioning moss vivid against the dust and earth.
Across the water the horizon is a smear of blue shadow. I ship anchor and push off.
In the fading light the hills and trees are mirrored in the dark water, like a Rorschach ink blot encircling. What secrets would it tell?
I'm like those trees, I'm frozen in time, frozen in the moment a drunk driver killed my wife and children. And yesterday I killed him, squeezed his neck till his eyes bulged, his tongue lolled.
Julie called this the Lake of Serenity. I scatter their ashes on the water.
I want peace.
I fuss over each knot as I bind my legs. My path is clear. All thoughts bring me to this finality, their contours sharp as broken slate.
I take one last slug of whisky and empty the rest into the channel that runs in a rim around the boat. The match flares and a blue flame burns in a fairy ring about me. The small flame melts plastic and simultaneously ruptures both air bags -- simply.
Sail Away is copyrighted 2007 by Bill West and may not be reproduced under any circumstances without the author's permission.