The red-headed writer, aka the Raconteuse, realised that something had gone seriously wrong with her plan to write herself back in time to find the key to the mystery of the Gatekeeper’s sudden disappearance and subsequent demise; mostly because she simply hadn’t wanted to believe that he’d gone.
While roaming around the inner reaches of her writer’s mind, jotting down what she’d thought should be her next step, events had overtaken her; apparently the Gatekeeper’s casting off of his mortal coil had merely been an elaborate ruse on the part of the Gatekeeper and his equally-imaginative collaborator, Ford the Supplier.
A clever misdirection – she should have known.
Meanwhile, mention being made of a mysterious coffin had sent her down another stupid rabbit hole, the curse of the ‘brancanneering’ story-teller, and now she was stuck on some god-forsaken beach, up to her ankles in chilly seawater, while a strange Gothic ship loomed on the horizon; a storm was brewing too.
A sudden gust of wind ushered in her own personal downpour, drenching her notebook; she applied her pen to the page, but it refused to mark the soggy paper.
How was she going to write herself out of here now?
This has been my second offering this week for Denise’s Six Sentence Story Challenge where this week’s prompt word was key.
*crafted on Canva by the author from an image on Pinterest
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