The Present Lives On

The water is warm under the tropical sun. Becky’s pirate ship sails proudly within arm’s length, the old cookie box with its little toy sailors. It makes a metallic sound against Alice’s ringed hand, and we pretend it’s the cannons firing.

Alice’s eyes glaze over as she remembers the pirate life.

She had ended that life immediately after the cannonball, at the next port of call. She had not opened the box until after she was on firm ground, but she already knew what was in it from the ringing sound it made as she ran.

Her thoughts turn to the cannonball.

The one that plucked Johnny’s life back in that fateful day, right before her eyes. His beheaded body still kneeling in front of her. As she looked up she stared at the approaching vessel in shock. It must have been several seconds before she started running, the box still in her hand.

Alice exhales. Her ring sparkles in the sun. She smiles to young Becky.

The present lives on.

This story has no comments.