It was too foggy to fly, so I drove down the road from the heliport to get something to eat. I first noticed a driveway that looked like it once led to some commercial establishment, but now leads to nothing but a building pad. The building was taken out by Katrina, or an earlier hurricane. Off to the side of the driveway, in an overgrown parcel of land, I saw this boat.
It might have been someone's personal sportfishing boat in days past, or it could have been a smallish commercial fishing boat or commercial guide service boat. I don't know.
Old things get to me. They hold stories they can't tell. I looked at this old boat, and wondered how many people may have made their livings off of it, or how many good times and sorrows danced across its deck.
I wish old things could talk. I wish when old people talked, more people would listen.
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7 comments:
Neat discovery. And yes, I wish old things could talk...
My sense is, this boat has an important story or two to tell.
You could try to find them. Or, just write fiction.
I vote the latter.
quid
I took you up on your suggestion, Quid, and started writing a story this morning about a man who sees, hears, and feels "stories" when he touches something old. I set out to make it a flash fiction piece, but I'm 600 words into it and just at the beginning. Thanks for the encouragement. I'll tell ya, I'm a lucky guy when it comes to encouraging friends.
Can't wait to read it Hal!
They do talk Hal. It's talking to you isn't it?
If old things could talk, my vibrator would be screaming, "Use me!"...oh wait, is this a PG-13 page??
nice..
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