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Again Amongst the Beach Detritus · 1 February 2025

[Note: This is a sequel to Amongst the Beach Detritus.]

The flashing blue lights and red lights are driving me crazy. But I cannot move from the beach detritus. It is safe here. And I can hear what is happening. I can hear the man in the uniform and Joey.

“My wife, Sophie, was sleeping in the sun, so I decided to clean up. I was doing my part and separating out the trash from the food garbage from the recycle. I just finished when Sophie screamed. I ran to where she was lying. Her ring finger was gone and she was bleeding everywhere.

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but some blood-thirsty crab came and snapped my wife’s finger off to grab her wedding ring. I saw the crab go into that garbage that the tide brings in, the beach detritus. And if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that crab kept saying, ‘My precious, my precious,’ as he ran away.”

“And where is this crazy, talking crab now, sir?”

“I don’t know! I was taking care of my wife. I had to stop the bleeding and call 911. The EMTs and you got here about the same time. You watched me get her into the back of their truck or van or whatever you call that thing. They said if we can find Sophie’s finger, we might be able to get it sewed back on and restore at least some function.”

Uh oh. That means trouble. They are coming to get me. Me and my precious. I run toward the water from my spot in the detritus clutching the precious treasure in my claw. Clutching the finger which has the ring.

I hear them chasing me. And in no time at all, they catch me. The one with the uniform holds me up. I hold tight to the finger that has my precious.

“Well, I’ll be. A treasure seeking crab.”

Joey grabs at the finger. It is too soft and I have no way to keep hold of it as he pulls. I watch in horror as he takes the finger and my treasure away.

“Nooooooooo! My precious.”

The uniformed man smiles. “And a talking crab. Or what suffices for talking. Or screaming.”

He kneels down, sets me on the ground, and lets me go. I start toward where Joey has just taken the finger and the precious. The uniformed man steps in front of me.

“No sirree, Bob.” He puts his foot on top of me so that I cannot move. I reach up to claw and scratch him. “It’s time for some beach justice.” I see his face as he leans down one last time. “Sorry, crab. Tomorrow, you’ll just be part of the beach detritus.” He stands straight and I see him no more.

I feel the pressure of his foot increase. “No! My…”

[Note: No crabs or people were hurt in the writing of this piece of fiction.]

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Amongst the Beach Detritus · 25 January 2025

Beach detritus. You always hope you’ll find Aladdin’s lamp or the corner of a buried treasure chest when you comb the beach. But there is always just beach detritus. And people’s garbage. People can be so disgusting. That’s when I saw it. Lying there amongst the mostly empty food containers and wrappers. A gold ring with a diamond.

The diamond ring glinted in the sunlight. A special ray of sunshine had hit it just right so that I was the only one who could see it. I walked, nay ran, to it. After all these years of beach combing, had I finally found a treasure worth keeping? I moved the wrappers and food containers (Did they have food in them?) away from my prize. “Come to me, my precious.”

I was just about to grab it when I realized that there was something inside the ring. A finger! Oh no. A detached finger! The horror. But then, it moved. And I saw my great folly. The finger was attached to a hand, which was attached to an arm, which was attached to a body. And the food containers were not garbage, which was why many of them still had food in them. It was somebody’s picnic. I had stumbled upon somebody’s messy picnic. And somebody lying amongst her own garbage. Or perhaps she had just been resting her hand on the ground near the wrappings. Leaning on her arm as she talked.

She noticed how close I was to her hand. She shouted, “Joey! Get that crab away from me!”

Joey laughed as he shooed me away. “It looked like he wanted your ring, Sophie.”

I obliged Joey and slinked away. He thwarted me this time, but he would be back. And I would be waiting. Waiting amongst the beach detritus.

[Note: This is a piece of fiction that I wrote on DailyPrompt.com, a writing app and service. I wrote about DailyPrompt last week.]

[Note: There is a sequel coming next week called Share on facebook Tweet

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DailyPrompt · 18 January 2025

Photo courtesy of Ryan Lindsey

I may not really need it, but I got a new writing tool. DailyPrompt.

Even though writers write, sometimes we need something to write about. Sometimes we need prompts. So I joined DailyPrompt to get prompts daily.

Now, I do not really need writing prompts every day. Or very often really. I mainly decided to join because a friend of mine, who ought to be a writing tool salesman, told me I should. Tim keeps telling me about all these different writing tools, and I have gotten a couple on his recommendation. But actually, I was not even going to try out the DailyPrompt app or site because, like I said, I already write as a habit. Actually, writing is more like breathing than a habit. And actually, that is another story. (Actually, already written, mind you.)

So if I was not even thinking of trying it, why did I actually join DailyPrompt? I am so glad you asked.

I decided to join DailyPrompt for two reasons. One is getting feedback. You can ask for feedback when you post some story or poem or scene or whatever you are writing. People can also comment on anything you put out there for all to see. Which are daunting thoughts to be sure. At least if you are afraid of rejection or are unsure of yourself. But I have been blogging for so long without having many comments or very many faithful followers (thank you, faithful few), that I welcome rejection and any comments. Positive, negative, or anywhere in between. Please give me feedback. (Okay. That sounded a bit needy.)

At any rate.

The second reason I joined was to get in on the competitions. There are competitions with monetary prizes. When Tim told me about those, I thought that would be enough reason to join. After all, he sent me a link for a lifetime membership with a discount. It cost me so much less than an arm and a leg that it was laughable. And if I ever happen to win a competition, I could pay for that lifetime subscription. Which would be fun. Winning any competition is fun. Especially, a writing competition. Not that I am that competitive, mind you. At least not in everything. (I did not even make the top ten in my first competition on DailyPrompt.)

The funny thing is that the day I joined, I wrote a short story (~1600 words) and a poem. At least that was what I put out there for all to see. At least everybody on DailyPrompt. My fellow DailyPrompt users can see what I wrote. And they can comment. Even critique. And they have commented! I have gotten likes and comments on several of the twenty-something pieces I have put out there.

Speaking of critiques (and thus editing). I know that I have work to do on everything I write. Lisa Cron made it clear in her book, Wired For Story, that writing is rewriting. Period. So spending a short time with a story that came from a picture prompt should still be edited. It should still be polished. At least a little bit. Which is where the critiques come in. I actually like to hear where I have missed the mark. I want the feedback. Always. It makes me better.

(By the way, there is an Artificial Intelligence (AI) critique tool on DailyPrompt that you can also use to help make you a better writer. I have only used it one time so far. It seemed pretty accurate on its assessment.)

If you have not already guessed, I enjoy writing. And I have fun writing to prompts. Oh, I might not write to those DailyPrompt prompts daily, but I have written something almost every day since joining. And I have posted all but one piece (because I am still working on it). So even though I do not think I really needed a new writing tool, I got one. Check it out at DailyPrompt.com.

[By the way. The next couple of weeks are going to be pieces of fiction that I wrote from a single prompt from DailyPrompt. Let me know if you like them.]