Flash Fiction Friday -- Musing on the Beach

This is another character I’ve been playing with and goes with last week’s story...enjoy.

Musing on the Beach
© 2009 Suzanne Lazear

Edward Logan did one last sweep of his farm. Willow Beach Worm Farm was the fulfillment of his father’s dream to move to the big island and raise worms. It was too bad his father wasn’t here to see it.

After his sweep, he stepped out onto the beach to enjoy view. Tonight the stretch of beach outside his little home and farm were empty, but already the little town was filling up for the annual Willow Beach Summer Festival. The highlights included a street fair, a surfing contest, and the “sexiest man of Willow Beach” contest where men came from all over the world to vie for the title.

That was what he was looking least forward to. Having lost a bet with his annoying little sister, Rosie, he was now a proud entrant in said contest. There were many things he’d rather do than be on display for the entire town—a town he lived in year round—but a bet was a bet and Rosie was all he had...now.

Taking a deep breath he inhaled the salty tang of ocean air and felt the pleasant nighttime breeze on his face. Something flew across the sky, illuminated by the moon and the porch light. A bird? He caught another glimpse of it before it disappeared. What it looked like was a bat with something around its neck.

Edward sighed. Bats didn’t wear things around there necks. He needed more sleep. But the worm farm—and taking care of Rosie—was a big job. Too big for one person.

“Brooding again?”

He turned around to see Rosie standing on the back porch in bare feet and a pink nightgown covered in glittery stars. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you?” She rolled her blue eyes dramatically. Rosie was fourteen going on forty. Her long hair, currently pink, was worn back in a braid. Other than that, she was the epitome of their mother. “Besides, it’s summer vacation.”

The only good thing about summer vacation was that she was free to help him more. Summer was their busy season.

“But I need you up early, we have to pack up all the mail orders to mail them out first thing.” He walked towards the porch of the little wooden house.

That got him a sigh. “I know. I saw a bat with a purse around its neck and wanted to come down for a better look.”

“Purse, Rosie?” He put an arm around her.

She shrugged. “That bat had something around its neck.”

“Come on, I think we both need more sleep.” He was not about to admit that he’d seen that bat too. After all, what kind of bat carried a purse?

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