The Diver

diving-in-the-pool Photo: Diving in the Pool by ron mzr

For inspiration, I used the Writing Prompts App by Writing.com.

The prompt was “A diver jumps from a high dive into a deep pool and disappears for good.”

The Diver

In my twenty years on the Force, fourteen-year-old Dan Jones’ disappearance is one of the cases that has puzzled me the most. He’d been at his local swimming pool for a while, diving off the high board like he always did. Pretty good at it too, so they say. Won a few trophies at County level.

Dan was a bit of a loner, never the popular kid. Perhaps they were jealous of him, a boy who was only really comfortable flying through the air, pushing himself way beyond their everyday limitations. The lifeguard, and a few other kids remember seeing Dan diving that day. But it was a Saturday afternoon and the pool was noisy and busy.

I sometimes think about Dan taking his dives, entering the water perfectly, with hardly a splash. Maybe hoping someone would notice him, maybe not even caring.

No one saw him leave. His mother phoned the pool three hours later, just as the office was closing up, to tell Dan to get himself home. I joined the Pool Manager and his staff for a thorough search of the whole building, but it proved negative. We retraced the fifteen minute walk home he should have taken, but again, nothing. Urgent messages to his phone went unanswered.

We had a search that night, and half the town turned out to help. The local media arrived in force, and helped us to get the message out. His photo soon became a familiar sight on telegraph poles all over the district. I remember that most of us had hope back then. That he had gone of his own free will, and he’d turn up soon, safe and sound.

But that was five years ago. Since then, not a word, or a promising lead. To mark each anniversary, his mother holds a candle-lit vigil for Dan outside the pool. Just family and friends attend now. It doesn’t make the local news any more.

200, Lakeside

lifesaver-reflection

Photo: Lifesaver Reflection by Lilla Frerichs

I’ve taken my recent 100 word story ‘Lakeside’ and added another 100 words to it. I’ve put the original on here too. The idea is that the second version teases out more detail from the story – a bit more flesh on the bones. I would be interested to read any comments, whether this idea works or not!

Lakeside

Mister Smith bought a lakeside cabin deep in the woods last summer, for cash. Apart from a weekly trip to my store, he kept himself to himself. Sometimes he’d fish from a dinghy that came with the property.

Smith was civil, but not exactly polite. Not the type you’d socialize with – he always seemed reluctant to converse. But that last time, he asked me if any strangers had been in, enquiring about him. I assured him no one had. Like they told me to.

That was three weeks ago. His cabin’s empty now. Maybe he’s taken the boat and gone.

200, Lakeside

Mister Smith bought a lakeside cabin deep in the woods last summer, for cash. The guys with cabins out that way would see him sitting on his dock most days. Seemed to be talking on his phone for hours at a time. Sometimes he’d fish from a dinghy that came with the property.

Apart from a weekly trip to my store, he kept himself to himself. He once said he didn’t trust the banks any more, and he’d closed down all his accounts. Smith was civil, but not exactly polite. Not the type you’d socialize with – he always seemed reluctant to converse. He told me he was from Nebraska, but his license plate said Massachusetts. Always did wonder why.

Last time I saw Smith, he asked if any strangers had been in, asking about him. I assured him no one had. Like they told me to.

Those guys with New England accents – I didn’t tell them exactly where he lived. They offered me money, but I didn’t take it. I’m not one to get involved. Just pointed ‘em Lakeside.

That was three weeks ago. His cabin’s empty now. Maybe he’s taken the boat and gone. I doubt he’ll be missed.

Lakeside

through-trees-to-lake

Photo: Through Trees to Lake by Lilla Frerichs 

 

Mister Smith bought a lakeside cabin deep in the woods last summer, for cash. Apart from a weekly trip to my store, he kept himself to himself. Sometimes he’d fish from a dinghy that came with the property.

Smith was civil, but not exactly polite. Not the type you’d socialize with – he always seemed reluctant to converse. But that last time, he asked me if any strangers had been in, enquiring about him. I assured him no one had. Like they told me to.

That was three weeks ago. His cabin’s empty now. Maybe he’s taken the boat and gone.

( 100 word fiction)

Background Noise

100 Word Challenge

This story is my first contribution for the ‘100-Word Challenge for Grownups’, (100WCGU,) from Julia’s Place. Click here to find more details.

This week’s prompt is:

…but where did the noise come from…

I’ve been waiting here so long. Silent and dark behind shutters and blinds. Hibernating – almost lifeless – shrouded in thick layers of grey dust.

But something is stirring, slowly bringing me back to life. Where is that noise coming from?

I hear a distant hum that rises to become the clear sound of a car engine. A vehicle is approaching!

The sound stops outside my door. Doors slam. Footsteps come towards me. I feel the front door opening, and light streams in for the first time in years.

I hear voices. A family! I close the door, and they’re all mine.

Target: Boston

This is my first attempt at a VisDare challenge! The Visual Dare Challenge is to write a story in 150 words or less, inspired by a selected image – see the photograph below. Please click on the VisDare Link for more details, and to read other stories entered in this challenge. Thanks.

VisDare 36: Implore

VisDare - Implore

Mark Boston, eccentric Billionaire Art Collector, confirmed that details of his plan had been published in full-page newspaper adverts around the globe. He finished the call to his legal team, and finally cut all ties with the outside world.

Mark sealed himself and his entire collection in the underground rooms he’d had constructed especially for this purpose. He took one last look around,  and with a wry smile triggered the sensor, that activated the statue, that fired the arrow straight at his heart.

His legacy: bequeathing a collection of art large enough to rival the world’s greatest museums.

The challenge: an elaborate and cryptic series of clues leading to his current location. Winner takes all – the finder will have legal rights to the collection.

The world’s greatest treasure hunt was now under way.