I suppose it’s quite unusual to get to the grand old age of 57 without winning a cup, but I’m pleased to say that I’ve finally broken my duck. My flash fiction ‘The Young Man and the Sea’ was awarded first place in the flash fiction section of the Lancashire Authors Association annual competition.
I wrote the story several years ago, during a writing exercise at a Chorley Writers meeting, and it’s always been a favourite of mine.
Here it is.
The Young Man and The Sea
He is back in the town where the sea curls round on three sides; where it draws away and darts back in, twice a day. The waves nibble at the cliffs, and throw back pebbles and sand. The tide takes away dead gulls and rats, and leaves behind shells, seaweed, and sun bleached driftwood.
It’s been seven years since his last visit. He’d tried to forget, but today, he is back. He is kneeling on the beach and stroking polished gems of green sea glass. He is remembering the wine bottle, and the storm, and he is remembering the girl.
