If you find a bottle on the beach, with a message in it, you open it. Jenny pulled out the paper, spread it flat, read it excitedly, then sighed. Dated today. Sent from this beach. Written carefully in a childish hand, asking the finder to write back to “JESSIE GRAY”. She screwed it up, irritated, shoved it deep into her coat pocket, walked on. At the far end of the beach she met a child, ankle deep in water, gazing out to sea. “I sent a message in a bottle” the child told her. “It could go anywhere”. Jenny nodded.
So, I’ve been reading Jenny’s 100 word stories for a while, and loving them. Today I have a chance to write my own. I say “chance” – could have done it any time, I suppose. Anyhow, it’s a lot trickier than it looks. 100 words is NOTHING.