Posted in Writing

500 Word Story: The Gypsy and the Shark

*Writing a story in 500 words is a common writing exercise I have never yet attempted. But, I thought it would be fun today. *

The Gypsy and the Shark

Blame it on the rip tide maybe, or maybe the alcohol, but the tiny boat drifted further out to sea than any of the three passengers ever wanted to go.

Joyriders out for a Saturday afternoon fun in the sun, the laughs lasted long enough until one finally noticed it.

“I see no land,” the young brunette suddenly remarked.

Upon her observation, the boy that was lounging with her, sat up set to disagree. For he knew everything, on account of being the only male in the group, and it was his boat after all. But, even he found himself at loss, as there was clearly no land in sight. The tiny boat, with its trio of passengers was dwarfed against the deep blue sea.

It was the gypsy’s idea to paddle back to shore. She wasn’t really a gypsy, but she fancied herself as such, having a gypsy soul. They grabbed the oars and began paddling back to land, but with the wind, they were getting nowhere. But as the boy paddled, his oar hit something and fell in the sea.

And that’s when they noticed it. The tell-tale black fin circling the boat. Shark. Fear struck the hearts of the three travelers. The brunette dissolved into hysteria. The boy froze. The shark’s back fin rose and fell in the water and splashed them all in the face. Then they remembered.

“The fish! The fish!” the brunette yelled.

They had salmon on board for the trip, and the boy had fancied a sea side barbecue. They threw the fish as far out in the water as they could in hopes of distracting the beast from themselves. It only made it worse. The shark pushed on the boat, and rocked it in search of the food. The trio got a full look its face as it attempted to board the boat. Jaws. It gnawed at the supplies, a machine in search of pleasure.

The boy grabbed a broom and attempted to strike the animal from afar, but his fear kept his too far at bay. No one else had any other ideas. And they watched, frozen. Trapped.

Finally in a massive display of aggressiveness, the shark leapt into the air, splashing salt water it its wake. Its entire massive body left the ocean for a few seconds, a glorious beautiful creature dancing in the sun, all muscle and flubber and power.

The gypsy had had enough. Propelled by what, she didn’t know. But she decided she shark had done enough. In the scant few seconds that the shark made its descent, she grabbed a gilded knife off the deck, and approached the animal with a steel face. She rested one foot on the side of the boat, and made unflinching eye contact with the beast.

Then without flinching, she lunged forward and jabbed the knife deep into the flesh of the animal. The shark squealed, and his blood spewed, but she didn’t move. And then she watched his wounded body fall —like a boulder into the ocean. The wind hit her full in the face, as she stood over her victory. A warrior was born.


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