My entry in the Flash!Friday contest this week. The photo below was the prompt and you had to include a death. 160 word max per usual. I belive they had 95 stories this week which is really incredible. It just continues to grow and grow and the writing is top-notch. Come join the fun every Friday.
Some of the villagers say that Takara still roams the globe, coastline to coastline, declaring war on wind and rain to avenge her father’s death from the famished typhoon that had swallowed him whole as he harvested clams for his daughter’s beloved miso soup. They say she can rip a storm apart with her wrathful hands, pry open its virulent heart and peer into its chaotic soul. That she laughs maniacally when the sky clears, when fear turns the whirling assassin into a coward, a flaccid breeze.
But if you ask the right old-timer and ply him with shots of shochu, he’ll spin you a different tale. That Takara never left the beach that claimed her father. That she sat there for ages without food or sleep, a buffet of dwindling hope her only sustenance. That she’s just a heap of mournful bones now, with a lone skeletal hand reaching through the damp sand pleading to be grasped one last time.