#MWBB - My Debut

I decided to have a go this week (for the first time) at Jeff Tsuroka's Flash Fiction Challenge called Mid-week Blues Buster.

He provides a song and then you have anywhere between 300 & 700 words to write what ever the song inspires. Here is this weeks song;

This is my contribution...

The colour rose into his cheeks and Eric could almost see the steam coming out of his ears, he knew that he would get a reaction but this was a little more dangerous a reaction than he expected.

‘What did you say? Say it again’ bellowed the broadest, hairiest and now ruddiest man in the bar as he pushed the table effortlessly aside and he stood towering above him.

‘Err…you. Err…’ Eric swallowed hard, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth and he stumbled backwards narrowly preventing falling on his arse. Eric noticed the man’s eye twitch slightly as he started to talk again and he knew that he had to get out of there fast. As he stepped backwards the man leaned towards him, Eric knew that he may not have been strong but he was quick and agile and made a run for it. 

As soon as he stepped out of the bar he was smacked in the face by the cold air and odour of rotting fish that was synonymous with the pier, full to the brim with the copious amounts of beer he had consumed, he swayed a little. The door slammed behind him. 

‘What the…’ he barely squeaked, and he ran down the pier, weaving past the few people wondering along its length, jumping over boxes and ducking under nets and poles, it was a tricky assault course but his slight frame and deftness made it easier. He reached the end of the pier and looked down at the water vehemently ramming into the side of the pier and realised he had gone the wrong way.

‘Come ‘ere’ growled a voice behind him and he turned, held up his hands in surrender and decided maybe an apology would help. The man had reached him, he was hardly out of breath but his face was slightly green now. He lent forward and retched, vomit spurting out splashing the wooden floor of the pier between them. Eric took this as his chance to escape, grabbed the man whilst off balance and shoved him head first into the choppy waters below.

He was jubilant, jumping up and down and getting carried away with his new found testosterone, punching the air like he was training for a prize fight, he grinned from ear to ear. 

‘WHO THE MAN!’ he shouted to the night sky.

Then he stopped. Reality struck. Had he really just pushed a drunken man head first into the sea in the pitch black night? He peered over the edge, his eyes scouring the water for the man, he couldn’t see any sign of him and he started to panic. Had he just killed a man? Without thinking he launched himself off the pier and into the cold waters. Once in it he quickly realised that the water wasn’t choppy, it was a veritable tsunami and he was barely strong enough to keep his head above the water; with each wave he was pushed under and had to fight to stay alive, gulping for air and spluttering out the salty brine, his celebration on the pier seemed a lifetime away.  Eric kicked as hard as any 120lb man could and was so close to the leg beam of the pier, it was just a fingertip out of reach and he could feel the pull of the current dragging him away and out to sea.

Then he felt it. Something grabbed his arm and yanked him with such force he thought it was a shark, expecting to feel some pain or see blood or drown or something, he was surprised when it grabbed at him again. Then before he knew what was happening he had been dragged to the pier leg, which he instinctively clung to for dear life, and although freezing he was still alive. Eric squinted in the darkness in an attempt to make out the face and then he heard a voice say;

‘So…like I said before…what did you say?’

Eric looked at the man rather sheepishly, but having just survived death he felt braver than ever, 

‘You were in my seat’.