WRITING PROMPT: Write a poem about the ocean. Or write a story about a character who finds a message in a bottle washed up on the beach. “Help me,” the message reads, and there’s a name and address…
Come and Rescue Me
Jeff and Maxwell were frantically trying to tie the Platypus Super 100 line around the bottom of the bottle and meticulously superglue it.
After three weeks of trials-and-many-errors, they had achieved near perfection with the stunt. This wasn’t any ordinary stunt. This stunt would change Maxwell’s life forever…. For the good… he hoped?
“Ok,” Jeff said. “You have your note?”
“Finished it last night. My best calligraphy. Shakespeare’s Romeo could have not set the scene better than I. Even soaked it in apple juice and toasted it over the fire to age the piece.”
“You are going all out.”
“I have to. I don’t want Martha to think anything is awry until she finishes reading the letter.”
“Well, roll it and stuff it. If we have this thing timed right, I toss it in the ocean when I see you guys approaching from the right. You will be keeping an eye out for the bottle as you tenderly walk hand-in-hand in the sunset.”
“Stop it…” Maxwell punches Jeff in the arm.
“Well, this is your set-up.”
“It has to work. She had always said that she dreamed of rescuing a prince hidden in the deepest, darkest dungeons. I only want for part of her dreams to be realized.”
“We have everything carefully calculated… I will continue to tug on the line until you see the bottle. You rescue the bottle, quickly removing the fishing line. Then you become shocked when you discover that there is a message in the bottle. You hand the bottle to Martha… You better hope that you are the frog she wants to kiss.”
That got another harder punch.
“Cork it, Jeff.” And he did.
“We’re off to the races…”Jeff screamed as he ran from the under patio and up the beachfront. Soon he was out of sight.
Maxwell suddenly felt an icy shiver run all the way down his spine. If this worked right… he would be proposing tonight to Martha just as the sun set over Buckroe Beach. He checked his pocket for the ring.
“We’re off to the races…” he chuckled and followed Maxwell’s footfalls left in the sand.
Written for Creative Writing Now: Day 29.