Romantic Friday Writers is a blogfest every Friday co-ordinated by myself and Francine Howarth. It is a fun event, showcasing the work of many fine writers who write romantic flash fiction or poetry under 400 words. Click on the icon in my sidebar or the link at the end of my post to check out others participating today or join the blogfest yourself. You will be most welcome. We are also found on twitter @RFWER. Each week we choose a runner up and a Featured Writer.No stars tonight. Michael leaned on the timber railing of the deck and scrunched his eyes skyward.
Murky blackness.
Blackness. That fitted his mood perfectly.
He’d suffered days of homesickness on the trip south to the Antarctic, rolling in his bunk as the ship surged through the icy waters, all the time dreaming of Ruby. Was she missing him? Was she dreaming of him? Why did she send him away?
But at times he felt the astounding ice of Antarctica healing his wounds—he was surrounded by it, feasting on the sight every day. Icy mountains so enormous that by comparison the ship became just a speck in the mighty ocean. To Michael the most amazing concept was that the landscape he was seeing had never been trodden by human feet.
The ship had brought him to a wonderland of indescribable beauty. If only he was in a place to fully enjoy it. All the magnificence paled when his thoughts returned to Ruby.
He turned his back on the starless heavens and stumbled to his cabin.
What was he doing here? He was an interloper. He’d never belong.
Sleep was far away, even though his body was exhausted from the pure physicality of the day’s labour, the clambering up and down ladders, the nervous tension of spotting for the Japanese whalers.
He snatched his ipod from under his pillow. His favourite tunes began their soothing work. He was drifting, dreaming, the words to The Cure filling him:
You’re so perfect, you’re so right as rain
You make me, make me, make me hungry again…
He had never wanted Ruby more than he did at this moment, the urge flowing through him like the spiralling sweetness of incense, seductive and sweet. He drifted towards dreams...
He wanted to make love to her. He wanted to feel her silky skin against his, feel her body rise to meet him, hear her moan and whisper. He wanted to hear her say she loved him. He wanted to take a journey with her to that one place in life where you touch the stars. Just the thought made his body ache with need.
Ruby, I’m coming home to you…
©DeniseCovey2011
WORD COUNT - 398. FCA (Full Critique Acceptable)
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