Gone Fishing (by Sophie Masson)She's sitting there all alone. I can see she's upset. So I go over and sit down.
'A nice day,' I observe. She starts, but doesn't look up. 'A nice day to be out on the sea,' I persist. 'Messing about in a boat... You too, yes?'
She looks quickly at me, surprised, but says nothing. I'm not put off. They're always like that, at first.
'I love my fishing. Started with small fry as a boy, right up to sharks... wonderful.'
She clears her throat. She's nearly ready. I change my tone. 'It sure is lonely at first. But that passes. Honest.' I wish I had a gold coin for all the times I've said that; well, not that it would be much use, but what's that they say about old habits?
Suddenly, she speaks. 'I keep thinking of all the things I should've said, should've done...'
I know just how it feels. You feel cheated. And you don't want to know at first that you're not the only one it's happened to; but eventually, it's a comfort. Honest.
I say, gently, 'Tell me, how did it happen?'
'Storm at sea,' she says. 'Didn't listen to the weather forecast...' A moment's silence, then she turns and looks properly at me for the first time. 'And you?'
'A big shark... the monster I was after... well, he got me, ' I admit.
She nods, thoughtfully. We sit in companionable silence, she and I, two ghosts together in the afterworld.
[The second short short story series is announced and explained here.]