Safe to Shore

In the writer’s group I’m connected with, I just wrote a fun little short story for a challenge.

The challenge was to play a random song from your music and write a short story inspired by it.

I just finished mine.

I present to you my short short story inspired by Rend Collective’s song “My Lighthouse”. (To listen to the song, click here.)

     In the darkness my head beats against an angled crag. Suffocating saltwater plunges into my open mouth burning and biting. I cling to the rock with cut hands coughing my lungs out. A wave beats me again scraping my nose against the rock.

I hear someone scream off to my left. My own voice is too drowned for noise.

My food is gone.

My violin is gone.

My life is gone.

I hardly fight for air. Why bother?

The water lifts me in a wave only to send me tumbling against another rock.

Someone is crying – wailing.

I float on my back, tempted to close my eyes to the inviting darkness. My watery eyes blink.

A golden light beams from somewhere.

People shout. Something about a lighthouse. Something about safety.

Water covers my head. The light quivers before my open eyes, but it grows brighter.

I smile, feeling one with the water.

     If this is how I end, then let it be.

I close my eyes.

Something forces my head above the water. Next my shoulders are held up. Firm hands pound my stomach. I erupt with water coughing and gasping. The air stings my rasping throat. Water still swirls around my waist, but someone holds me up.

Someone warm.

I keep my eyes closed. The light is so strong now, so close – I can smell it.

“There now,” a deep voice beside me says. “I will carry you safe to shore.”

The firm arms wrap around me and hold me close. The troubled sea beats against him, but I can hear a faint melody in the distance.


Violin music.

Warmth swells in my heart. My hair begins to feel dry.

The music outplays the waves now, and I hear people dancing.

“Here we are,” he says leaning down and dropping my legs.

I don’t want him to leave me. I don’t want him to let go.

I don’t even know what he looks like. His warm hands take mine.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispers. Then he twirls me around.

We dance in time with the music with wet sand under our feet. As the last note plays and the people clap, he leans down and whispers in my ear,

“Trust this promise: I will carry you safe to shore.”


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I am a 7-year-old​ stuck in a twenty-something's body. I enjoy long walks on the beach and peanut butter on waffles. If the following combinations of letters mean anything to you: OYAN, LotR, F.R.O.G., AiO, OBPC, DIY Then we can be friends. And if not, we still can be friends!

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