The flashlight illuminates the walls in a weird blue glow as he makes his way through the basement of the wooden duck submarine. It's indigo beam picks out forms and shapes before him - concrete walls and panels and pipes and reinforced wiring; strange geometry flitting in and out of sight. He can hear the creaks and groans of the water pressure building as the submarine descends deeper into the sea. How much further before they reached bottom?
Eventually he comes across a doorway beneath a wire framed incandescent bulb, the only light bulb he's seen down here so far. And next to the door, leaning against a chair, is a pair of skis, along with ski boots.
He stops in his tracks. This is ridiculous. How could anyone go skiing in the basement of a giant wooden duck submarine, fathoms below the ocean's surface? As he hesitantly steps towards the door, he notices the air growing colder.
With a trembling hand he takes hold of the doorknob. The bulb buzzes overhead. The skis sit in mute witness. Finally, he swings the door open.
Well. He should have known. Turning away from the dazzling whiteness, he looks at the skis, his shoulders slumped in resigned bafflement. She really wouldn't have it any other way, would she?
He must ski.
Twenty Sixth chapter in an ongoing serial based on @mariannewest's daily #freewrite writing prompts. Here are the previous chapters listed below:
Chapter One>Chapter Two>Chapter Three>Chapter Four
Chapter Five>Chapter Six>Chapter Seven>Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine>Chapter Ten>Chapter Eleven>Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen>Chapter Fourteen>Chapter Fifteen>Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen>Chapter Eighteen>Chapter Nineteen>Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One>Chapter Twenty Two>Chapter Twenty Three>Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Written in five minutes from the writing prompt, "Ski" as part of the #freewrite exercise. Image is by me as well. You can view the prompt here and check out the other entries; these words call out like a passionate yodel across an alpine ridge. Thanks to @mariannewest for creating and running this fine powdered slope of writerly flow.