FICTION IN THE POST-PANDEMIC TIMES
Hi Fiction Fans,
I do hope you haven’t deserted me and my gal pals Tiffany and Mrs MacPhillamy. They are still around, racking up their frequent-cruiser points, and knocking back the cocktails.
I won’t overburden you with excuses as to my ‘Missing in Action’, but let’s just say I was exploring the Gulf — not Carpentaria, but the Arabian Gulf, also known as the Persian Gulf, on a cruise ship. It was fabulous and I followed that up with a short trip to Oman, which is just a 90-minute flight from Doha, Qatar’s capital. I loved it, especially the old souq (or bazaar) in Doha and the mountains, sand dunes and wadis of Oman and its amazing capital, Muscat.
But here we are and it’s Easter – I don’t have any chocolates to share, but hopefully episode 25 of my Adventures will be a treat.
Last time we checked in on the trio (which of course includes Marjorie the ‘maid’ or constant companion) they were dealing with an uninvited guest – yes, cast your mind back to Mrs Mac’s other granddaughter Clementine, who just happened to board the QM2 as her mother had won the cruise and didn’t want to accompany the pre-teen on the high seas. Mrs Mac was furious, at her wits end as the last thing she wanted was to entertain a 12-year-old, especially this spoilt little miss.
But as fate — or fiction — would have it, poor little Clemmie met with an accident on the night of the captain’s welcome party and crashed headlong into a champagne tower, or pyramid of champagne glasses. Now, readers, these sorts of accidents are rare on cruise ships and if they were to happen, it would probably be by some myopic drunk, who’d taken the wrong turn, not an hyper-active pre-teen used to getting their own way. But there you go and I’m sure all cruise lines will take heed of my advice and restrain the little ones or confine them to their cabins.
Now let’s get on with the tale.
As you know I write my 500-word pieces to adhere to the rules of the Furious Fiction writing contest run by the Australian Writers’ Centre. Each month we’re given a stimulus or prompts and have 50 hours to get the story in.
As yet, I’ve never won, nor have I been mentioned in Despatches; I know, the judges are asleep at the wheel. But I press on and so shall we.
The prompts for this story were:
- The first tine and last line of the story had to be the same
- Someone had to inflate something
- The words – flattered; flame; flag; flash – had to be used.
Relief was written all over Mrs MacPhillamy’s face.
She was amazed at how quickly she set her granddaughter’s medical evacuation in motion; not an easy task considering the paperwork involved and the fact they were travelling through the Bay of Biscay en route to Gibraltar on an ocean liner.
Once it was clear that Clementine’s various cuts and lacerations were not life-threatening but obviously needed more than a ship’s doctor’s attention and a dab of Dettol, Mrs Mac sprang into attention making a late-night call to her daughter, the child’s mother. She insisted her daughter catch the first flight out and meet the ship when it docked in two days’ time. She then instructed the purser to organise an ambulance at the wharf.
Dr Patel had taken the young girl to the ship’s infirmary and was giving her a sweet when grandmother walked in.
Clementine’s face lit up: “Grandma, I’m OK, I really am. I want to go back to the party.”
“No sweetheart, you’re delirious, you need bedrest, not parties darling,” Mrs Mac cooed.
“And the wonderful doctor here will give you the very best of attention. And I see the nurse is inflating a special rubber bed for you. How lovely?”
Flattered, Dr Patel beamed; he would enjoy tending to a youngster; a nice change from his normal patients – doddery old dowagers with gout and old men wanting Viagra top-ups.
Mrs Mac steered the doctor to one side. “Now let’s get Clementine’s limbs all bandaged up doctor. Better be safe rather than sorry. I’m popping up to see the captain but will be back soon to take a photo for her poor, worried parents.”
Back in the dining room staff were still cleaning up the mess – thousands of pieces of shattered glass covered the floor, the remains of what had been a crystal champagne tower so high one needed a ladder to get to the very top glass.
The captain surveyed the scene and put on a concerned face as Mrs Mac approached.
‘What a dreadful ordeal Mrs MacPhillamy. We’re fortunate the dear little girl hadn’t tripped and crashed on the night we held the baked Alaska flambe parade.”
“Indeed captain.” Clementine was not the easiest of grandchildren in anyone’s book, but Mrs Mac hardly wanted the child to go up in a ball of flames.
“Captain I’ve sorted out the medivac….”
“My dear lady, leave it all with us. We won’t be flagging down the nearest cargo ship to take your granddaughter home. We will give her the greatest care. Once we dock, mother and child will be whisked off to the airport in a flash.”
Mrs Mac smiled and hot-tailed it to the infirmary just as a heavily bandaged Clementine was lifted carefully onto her squishy bed.
“Time for quick selfie with grandma, dear.”
It wasn’t a bad photo all considered. The doctor was beaming, Clementine looked comfy and…
Relief was written all over Mrs MacPhillamy’s face.
Well readers, another disaster diverted and all’s well in the world, but of course, not until Clemmie is safely in that ambulance (or limo) and heading to the airport with her mother. Next time we’ll see what Tiffany and Marjorie have been up to – are they enjoying the cruise, have they immersed themselves in shipboard life or perhaps even dabbled in a spot of romance? Who knows? I do, but I’m not letting on.
See you next time in fiction land, and I promise the hiatus won’t be so long…..
Here’s a hint of the stimulus the next episode.
As I’ve often said that you too can enter the Furious Fiction competition.
Here’s the link. https://www.writerscentre.com.au/blog/category/furious-fiction/
And thanks again to Unsplash for the photograph: https://unsplash.com/
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