Harpoon
by Tina Barry
Chainsaws. Blubber spewing across ice. It took a day for the Eskimos' blades to near the center of an ancient whale. Lodged beside its silent heart, nearly missed, the secret of a harpoon. “Nfu” (hurt), one man said, tapping his chest.
Claire reads the newspaper account of the beached whale, her feet crossed and resting on a kitchen chair. The harpooning, historians estimated, happened around 1890, making the fish over 100 years old. Claire imagines it, eons after the wounding: massive as an ocean liner, sluicing through schools of smaller sea creatures, then hurtling high into the clouds, a blot of black against a cerulean sky. Returning to the surf, the whale's eyes flinch; for a moment it had forgotten.
The story brings thoughts of her father; she calls him Captain Ahab. She's joked to friends, lovers who drifted away, that if observed carefully, he's recognizable in the earliest images of misery: a hand shoving a young gladiator before the lion; the fire devouring a witch in Salem. And here he is. Again. His prongs still sharp against the whale's scarred heart.
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Author's Note
This is posted at Berg Gasse 19.
(Berg-gasse19.com.) The story is based on a writing prompt that's been pinned to my bulletin board for three years.
Other stories by Tina Barry
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Lovely, haunting prose, Tina. Superbly crafted like the blade itself. Fantastic, a fave.
Big yes, Tina. Strong use of language/phrasings throughout. Great ending:
"The story brings thoughts of her father; she calls him Captain Ahab. She's joked to friends, lovers who drifted away, that if observed carefully, he's recognizable in the earliest images of misery: a hand shoving a young gladiator before the lion; the fire devouring a witch in Salem. And here he is. Again. His prongs still sharp against the whale's scarred heart."
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Thanks Robert and Sam for the kind words and stars. They mean a lot!
There is so much in this piece. It's entirely suggestive, lacking firmament, but therein lies the beauty of flash fiction, where the mind is the playing field, the mind of the reader. A little bit meta-, a little bit rock'n'roll, this should be a poster child for flash, a text book example of how the genre works and why it's not just a fashionable diversion.
To say I loved it at this point might be superfluous, but I loved it.
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James. I'm speechless. Thank you!
This is fascinating. Very visual and just wonderful wonderful to read. It goes so many places in my mind. *
Thanks for the kind words, Jane, and for the star!
This is beautiful, Tina. Eloquent and sharp.
"His prongs still sharp against the whale's scarred heart."
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Thank you, Bill, for your generous praise and for the star!