(Photo courtesy of Artur Malishkevych )
“Look there goes Ronnie’s trawler”, Ben exclaimed, his voice ringing with enthusiasm. Using her elbow to nudge him sharply, Ruth corrected her husband, “Ronnie has a central console boat. This is Wendell’s tried and trusted houseboat.” Ben could never get either the type of the boat or its owner right. Downright surprising considering the fact that Ben was a veritable water body. Exploring the deep and doing his bit for the preservation of the marine ecosystem was the cornerstone of Ben’s professional life.
Thus chastised, Ben pulled down his hat to protect himself from the rays of a blazing sun and remained silent. The ocean was a brilliant and transparent turquoise. A group of snorkeling enthusiasts squealed with delight at spotting schools of Grass Carp and Peruvian Anchoveta.
However, neither the group merrily treading water nor the tourists peering out the leisurely sailing boat could spot Ruth and Ben. All they could see were a couple of Sabal palmetto trees with scraggy branches. For exactly fifteen years to the day, Ben and Ruth had drowned in a tragic accident when Wendell’s houseboat in which they were sailing, rammed against a giant cruise ship, before capsizing and killing everyone on board.
(Word Count: 200)
To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, click HERE