It was another magical day the ocean sparkling as he continued wading in the luke warm water which he was in up to his chest, traditional spear in his hands, its bamboo shaft well worn from excursions such as this with the stainless steel prongs sharpened to a needle point to penetrate even the toughest skin of his prey.
There was a little movement to his right as he fixed his blue eyes onto it watching the shadow slip within range complete unaware of his stealthy presence as he lifted the spear and in one fluid motion threw it at the shadow. The spear end floating on the surface twitching wildly showed that it was a direct hit.
Swimming with enjoyable leisurely strokes he reached the spear and grasping the end placed his feet on the sandy bottom lifting the spear slowly from the water to reveal another beautiful but large specimen of Australian sand whiting.
That being his third of this short outing he swam back to the beach some thirty odd meters away his catch tucked solidly into the lovingly made pouch attached to his shorts.
Walking slowly he emerged from the warm water, the slight ocean breeze pleasant on his skin as he couldn’t help but take in his tropical surrounding, thanking himself for making the decision to leave the stress of the city, a hard choice but certainly one he appreciated more and more each day.
It was nearly 4 years ago that he made up his mind to leave the stress of his job as a high profile lawyer, personally he thought at the time he was sick of keeping the scrum from prison on technicalities only to receive monetary rewards for his effort, the longer he did it the more he regretted this Judas like gesture of selling his abilities against his better judgement and morals.
There were too many scum on the street because of his sharp analytical mind, so when time came and he had enough money he left his life to relocate to the lush tropical island he now called home far away from his past life, and the more importantly from the scum he put back onto the street.
Home he though, yes his soul was at home here. The move although logistically a nightmare had been the most exciting time of his short life, not yet thirty five he had enjoyed the good life and now he thought was enjoying the better life. Granted returning to this place was strange as he had only lived her for a very short time as a child it bought back all the euphoric memories he had kept locked up for so long.
Less than twenty kilometres from the Papuan New Guinea coastline he still resided within Australian waters and enjoyed all the privileges Australia could afford him.
The small fire still smouldered as he slowly filleted and cleaned his catch, tossing the scraps onto the beach to his resident fishing companion, a sea eagle which was immature when it had first flown into his life not long after settling here, not anymore it was a full grown and spectacular specimen that grew bolder by the day, in a way he resented the company but in short enjoyed having something to join him when he needed the company. Placing the pan with his fresh fillets of fish over the smouldering fire as he stood and admired his home. A brick house, getting it here had been a nightmare but still he had built it with his own hands, nothing lavish but enough to suit his life style, fans in every room and air conditioning in the bedrooms, which was run but the battery bank kept in the cellar he had lovingly carved into the sandy ground, careful but arduously extracting whatever granite boulders he came across which was many given that this island was a volcanically
formed peak almost seemingly placed into the pacific ocean, the batteries were powered by the numerous solar panels on the roof of both the house and storage shed.
only just wrote these paragraphs this morning and think i got lost in the last paragraph or two but other than that think it has the making of a good intro what do you think?
thanks in advance peoples,
My favourite part – the sea eagle reference. Nice prose there, qtg.
Just a few observations:
1. I think "he" should have a name by this stage (even a surname reference)
2. Depending on how long your short story is going to be, be aware of injecting some rising action (en route to a climax) fairly soon
3. Some parts feel a little "over written". Perhaps cut back on some double adjectives and instead substitute a more high impact singular.
4. Be aware of character's actions "in context" to what his motivation is
5. Short sentences pack a little more punch than overly long ones in some instances.
Hope this makes sense – thanks for sharing – can't wait to read more! I can picture the setting nicely.
