Creative, constructive, ways I can improve story structure.
Written By: Devan
April 7, 2015
GROUP: Flash Fiction
It had been two days, and there was still no sign of the oppisite shore. The fog had come in sometime in the night and hadn't let up. Last night was cold just like the one before, and the morning was damp with humidity. I thought it was hell. Rich doesn't seem to mind though. Then again he doesn't seem to mind anything anymore, not since Mom had died. He woke me up in the middle of the night on Tuesday and simply said, "We've got to go." As we were sneaking out the door I had asked him what would happen if Dad caught us, he said the "drunk son of a bitch" wouldn't even notice.
The first night we had rowed as hard as we possibly could into Superior, following the moon. Now we were just lulling fighting against the current as blue-green waves lapped at the side of a boat. Rich checked his compass, letting me take the rowing, its a bit counterproductive, but Rich says we always have to be moving, that people will be looking for us soon.
"We should reach Wisconsin in about an hour," he proclaims matter-of-factly
"What's Wisconsin like? Rich?" I ask, he's fifteen and six years older than me, he should know.
"I reckon it's like Minnesota, a little warmer, a liitle more cheese, but basically the same"
"Why we going there if it's the same as Minnesota?" Minnesota was a bad place for us.
"We aren't going to stay in Wisconsin, we will make our way to one of those southern states, Arkansas maybe, Arkansas sounds nice."
It didn't sound nice to me, he made me gave up everything I knew and he doesn't even know where we are headed "Why we doing this Rich? I wanna go home, it is hotter than hell out here."
"Don't say that!" He snaps.
"Why not?" I ask defiantely, throwing down my oar.
"Because she wouldn't want you to, just like she wouldn't want you to stay with that drunk. I did this for her! Do you think it was easy for me?" He sits back and cries.
Mom wanted this? She always was protecting us, but... from Dad. She would us to stick together, me and Rich. I picked up my oar and started rowing.