Welcome to The Spot Writers.
Prompt for May: write a
story using the following words: boat, flowers, snow.
This week’s story was
written by Phil Yeats. In September, 2021, he published The Souring Seas,
the first volume in a precautionary tale about the hazards of ignoring
human-induced climate change. The second volume, Building
Houses of Cards, appeared in May 2022. He’s now published They
All Come Tumbling Down, the final volume in his The Road to Environmental
Armageddon trilogy. For information about these books, or his older soft-boiled
mysteries, visit his website https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
April Flurries
by Phil Yeats
By the time I
returned with my load of lumber, the temperature had dropped several degrees,
bloody great flakes were falling, and the roads were slippery. I noticed
Mandy’s rusty old Honda in our parking area. It hadn’t been there when I left
an hour earlier.
She emerged
and walked to the back of her car as I parked the van.
“Pablo called
last night and insisted I drop everything and arrive this morning,” she said as
she pulled a small wheeled suitcase from her trunk.
I stared at
her luggage. “A longer visit than your normal twelve-hour marathons?”
“Yeah. Said he
wants me for a week. Some pressing deadline to get his fairyland painting
finished.”
I smiled as
she rushed toward the boat dock. Pablo had been working on the massive canvas
for several months. I called it his Midsummer Night’s Dream painting because it
depicted a forest scene with men and women cavorting in various states of
undress. And all around and about, fairies wearing diaphanous garments perched
on rocks and branches of trees, or just flittered about. Mandy was the model
for all the depictions of fairies.
She slipped on
the now icy path and fell to her knees. When I caught up with her, she was
brushing snow away from the snowdrops, grape hyacinths, and Siberian squills
I’d planted by the path.
“Look at the
poor flowers, struggling to push their heads through the stupid snow.”
I helped her
to her feet. She was wearing nothing but a T-shirt, shorts, and sandals. She
must have been freezing, but she seemed more concerned with the fate of my flowers.
“They’re used to the unpredictable spring weather. Tomorrow the snow will be
gone and they’ll be good as new.” I paused while she brushed wet snow from her
shorts and bare legs. “Let’s get you to the boat. You can wait in the
wheelhouse while I load my deck boards. No heat, but it should be dry.”
Later, on the
brief trip across the inlet to Pablo’s island hideaway, I raised another issue.
“When I talked to Mrs. Jakes this morning, she said nothing about your visit.”
Mandy laughed.
She spread her arms around my waist and snuggled close. “Pablo’s overworked
housekeeper is just like Nova Scotia’s spring flowers. They know how to deal
with the unpredictable weather, and she knows how to deal with her
unpredictable employer.”
***
The Spot Writers – Our members:
Val
Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine
A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com/wicker-chitter/
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
Chiara
De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/
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