Actually, no one is more surprised than me. LOL And I wrote it in longhand in my writing journal at that. Sometimes it’s just easier to write if I get away from the computer. Also, it’s about 150 words over the word count, but too bad. While I could have made it longer, I definitely didn’t want to make it shorter.
To remind you, here’s the prompt from The Story Shack that I used:
Word count: 350
Genre: Romance
Character: An expert gardener
Material: An onion
Sentence: "I'm sorry."
Bonus: Your character is shipwrecked.
“It was all so silly,” I said, leaning on the ship’s rail.
“Most lover’s quarrels are, dear,” replied the matronly woman beside me. “Don’t you agree sister?”
“Oh, indeed!” The matron’s much thinner shadow nodded vigorously. She would never think to disagree with her domineering sister. “How did it start, if you don’t mind my asking?” the sister added.
The matron shot her a disapproving glance, but I had no idea whether it was at her forwardness or because she didn’t care to know. Throwing caution to the wind, I continued my story.
“It started because of an onion.”
“An onion?” the matron repeated, startled.
I nodded. “That’s right, an onion. You see Geoffrey, that’s my fiancé, fancies himself a chef, although he’s never had any training. And I was making a ratatouille for him. He wanted to add an extra onion but I disagreed.”
“Too much onion can ruin a ratatouille,” the sister murmured.
“We had a big fight over it and Geoffrey stormed off.”
“Just like a man,” the matron said with a sniff.
“We had booked this cruise months ago,” I said. “I was sure he’d be waiting for me on board.”
“But he wasn’t?” the sister suggested timidly.
I shook my head.
“Never mind, dear.” The matron patted me on the hand. “There are plenty of other fish in the sea.”
“But that’s just it,” I told her. I smiled as I pulled back from the rail and waved the telegram I was holding in front of her. “I received it just this morning.”
“What does it say?” the matron couldn’t help asking.
“It says he’s sorry for being such a boor and he’ll meet me at our next port of call.”
“How romantic!” the sister gushed, clasping her hands to her chest.
Just as the matron opened her mouth for a rebuttal, the ship lurched, and there was a grinding, scraping noise. The telegram I’d been holding fluttered away.
A klaxon sounded as people began screaming and running about.
“What is it? What’s happened?” the sister gasped, clutching at the rail as the ship lurched again and began to list to one side.
“Abandon ship!” The order came over the loudspeaker. “Everyone to the lifeboats. Abandon ship!”
The matron grabbed the arm of a passing sailor. “What’s happening?” she demanded, fingers digging into his arm.
“We’ve gone aground ma’am,” he gasped. “Run up on some rocks.” He pulled free. “You ladies best get to the lifeboats,” he called back over his shoulder as he hurried away.
* * * * *
“This is most inconvenient,” the matron stated, once we were settled in our boat.
“I think it’s rather exciting,” the sister replied. “Just look at that island we’re headed for. So verdant! I’ll finally be able to put my expert gardening skills to good use. But you, my dear.” She took my hand. “Just when you were to be reunited with your young man.”
I smiled wanly. “I just wish I'd had the chance to tell him I’m sorry.”
