The boat rocked backwards and forwards, and I felt my stomach starting to churn. The day was hot and sultry as the gentle rocking continued. Then, as if a trigger was pulled, I vomited over the edge of the boat.
Dad didn’t mind. “Some berley for the fish,” he said.
Connell Wayne Regner had successfully avoided writing creatively since he wrote spontaneous lyrics to music many years ago. Although from a linguistic background, he has serendipitously succumbed to fiction after spontaneously creating bedtime stories for his children. His other dabblings can be found at paragraphplanet and wtdmagazine.wordpress.com.