I’m trying something new, I’ve dabbled with fiction here and there on this blog, and the recent November Blogging challenge made me realise that I enjoyed the freedom a simple prompt can bring. So, let’s see how it goes.
The post is written in response to a prompt from Genre Scribes: Friday Fiction Writing Challenge #24 — Lake.
It was always known as the Lake Keepers cottage when I was growing up, although I never recalled seeing anyone living there, just the occasional signs of people passing through, more bothy than home.
Most of the Lake Keepers kept to their boats, all the better to do their job, so as I walked nearby early one morning I was startled to see a man leaving the building. Through the fresh mist that clung to the waters edge I could just make out a hunched figure trudging from the front door of the cottage and down the jetty to the boat floating there on the calm waters.
I watched as he clomped his way back, footsteps on wet boards sending tiny ripples across the water. Without realising I had moved behind a small tree so as not to be seen.
The door remained closed for some time, had it been an apparition, a side effect of my medication?
I was just about to leave when the door was flung open and I watched as the shadowy figure lumbered out, stooping as he walked through the door frame.
It was still early, the sun was barely up, but it was unmistakeable. I stood there and watched the Lake Keeper carry a body out of the cottage and down the jetty to the waiting boat.
