Hey all! I know, I missed the regular Tuesday Tales prompt this week – my weekend kersploded and things got away from me. Luckily, we’re also doing a picture prompt this week so I’m able to get in on that!
This was the picture we were given as a prompt with the theme Tropical and we were given the added challenge of keeping it at 300 words. Of course, prompts like this always send my mind on a curve.
It didn’t matter that the sky was perfect, the sand warm. The luscious palm trees, the still water – all of it was the setting of the damned. Alanna looked back behind her where he stood on the island, looking too happy for his own good. Well, you’d be happy too if you were in his shoes.
“Why me?” Alanna stared at the long stick thrust out towards her.
“You couldn’t pay the fee,” Charon shrugged. It was that simple. All I wanted was a damn vacation, she thought. One week away from the job, the boyfriend, the to-do lists.
She bit her lip and wondered what the corpse-like figure would do if she took her top off. Her long fingers slid to the hem of the cami she’d worn on the plane. Strange, I don’t even remember when it went down.
“Sorry, sweets, those parts don’t work anymore,” he muttered.
“This is a dream,” she challenged, and flipped her dark curls over a shoulder. There had to be a way out. “I’m going to wake up any second now.”
“Keep telling yourself that, princess,” Charon smirked, his robes floating on top of the perfect water as he followed her. “Maybe that’ll get you through the first hundred years.”
“I thought you were the ferryman to hell,” she stalled, though backing up just brought her closer to the boat, closer to her doom.
His broad grin cut through the fog in her head and with a sudden thrust he put the oar in her hands, sending her falling back into the boat.
“A tropical paradise and you can’t enjoy it? Believe me, it’s hell.”
She had no choice but to row away and curse her luck as the waving Charon’s robes morphed to a Hawaiian shirt and ridiculous Bermuda shorts.