Writing Prompt: The sea was whipped to a frenzy by the wind.

Good morning all. Last night he window was open a crack and surprise surprise, I woke up without a hint of stuffiness. I know, you are probably tired of hearing about it, but I am thrilled that a solution was found. And that it wasn’t an actual cold or worse. I like all of the bulletins keeping me apprised of what is going on and it is informative to know that this year the professionals are expecting a bad flu season. That’s nice to know. Receiving that information when I have the sniffles, is probably not the best timing. But the sniffles are gone. And I am not dying of the influenza. So with that happy news, let’s push on with the morning prompt. Ready? Fabulous! Let’s go.

I was kind of sad to top when the timer went off with this one. Actually it has been a really good week for prompts thus far. I really want to see where this one goes. I’m thinking murder mystery. I rarely think murder mystery actually. I like reading them and watching them sometimes, but I rarely write them. This one seems to have that feel though.

Wednesday, October 20th: The sea was whipped to a frenzy by the wind.    

The sea was whipped to a frenzy by the wind.  The water, normally a calm mirror of blue was spiked with white.  Cleo closed her eyes and prayed that she wouldn’t disgrace herself by being sick.  She was the only medic on duty when the call came in.  There was no choice but to go.  There was no one else to send. 

The closed eyes made the choppy sea and the roiling of her stomach worse so she opened them again.  No one noticed her momentary lapse of composure.  All eyes were trained on the water ahead.  In the distance, through the spray and storm, they could see the outline of the island, their destination.

To Cleo the storm seemed to linger behind the island as though it were waiting for them.  Cleo realized her knuckles were white as she held onto the railing, but a quick glance around told her everyone else was holding on just as hard.  It was a slight comfort but she knew that it was not the sea that most of them feared in this moment. 

They respected the sea and would never claim not to fear it.  Most of them spent their lives on or under its surface and knew it could kill them.  But that was a threat they lived with every day.

Tonight, the island and what it could hold eclipsed even the sea’s power.  The island was not a terribly large one.  By the standards of the area it was barely moderate.  However while the other islands were carved up by corporations or occupied by towns and communities, this island belonged in its entirety to one man. 

Mr. Evans.

At the moment Cleo couldn’t remember this Mr. Evan’s first name.  The Evans family had owned the island for generations.  A Mr. Evans was always in charge.  Cleo met this current Mr. Evans and knew he was an older gentleman.  She knew his son was older than her father and his grandson was a few years older than she was. 

In general she stayed away from all of the Mr. Evans’ regardless of whether or not they were the ones currently owning the island.  Because it wasn’t just the island they owned.  The family owned a majority stock in most of the major hotels scattered through the islands, a chunk of most of the corporations and a handful of interests that started off as personal hobbies for the idle family members and grew into major businesses in their own right. 

Her dad used to say that the Evans family was as close to royalty as the islands would ever know.  The town councils could vote for whatever they wanted, but the Evans truly had the power of life or death over the economy.

And now on this stormy evening, she was called to deal with an emergency in the Evans household. ‘Please don’t let it be something major,’ She prayed.  The fear of being blamed for the death of an Evans even shut down her sea sickness. 

The boat reached the private dock and even a the men tied her up, Cleo was body lifted out of the boat.  As soon as her feet hit the boards, she ran towards the house.

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