For Friday Fictioneers.
Copyright Ted Strutz
The crew seemed reluctant to impart any details of the ship’s history, but Peter prized it out of a ship’s mate that evening after dinner.
“It were 1984 or so. We was carryin’ food and the like to Africa. Part of that ‘feed the world’ thing. Coming back, we finds a stowaway. ‘E runs through with a lit candle and sets this dining-room afire. ‘E was killed ‘n buried at sea.”
Peter glanced up. The image of a smiling boy appeared in the window, fire about him. Peter turned around.
When he returned his gaze to the glass, the boy was gone.
(Word count 100).