It’s close to nightfall as I prepare to put this note in a bottle. Last empty bottle of Cabernet for Becky. I’m stranded on the east coast of Granite Isle near Miller’s Crossing. The ferry stopped running over an hour ago. Tide seems to be working its way in. My truck is wedged in a gully between the road and tide pools. My waist is trapped beneath my lap belt. Tight. It’s my hope that someone finds my note and reads my last words. For your time you will be rewarded. It’s more of a confession. Hopefully you’ll understand my crimes. A week ago, I wasn’t a dishonest man. Yesterday, I became a liar, cheater, and a thief. Betrayed three people and this is my punishment. Lied to my wife, cheated my best friend and stole from my boss. A lot of money. Money is the only thing worth having. My best friend and wife died trying to stop me. I shot him for his share and she tried to stop me from leaving. That was an accident I wasn’t prepared for, but a necessary casualty. She knew we had to leave immediately and wasn’t ready to make the required sacrifice. Now my boss he had a fair chance at living. Wounded. Gut. Bullet may have missed the major organs. Leave the killing, stealing and dishonesty to the bad men. The good folk don’t have the stomach for it. Sitting here as the cab fills up with water I know my only crimes and the punishment isn’t nearly severe enough. The reward for your time is generous. Now that I’ve disclosed the final resting place of my truck, come find it beneath the tide pools by Miller’s Crossing. You’ll be rewarded. I let you see how much it was worth.
Alright. I’m producing a series of ‘300’s. Did say I would. I’m not sure how many right now. Been cranking them out as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence. They are not like anything else. Not in the traditional terms of story telling. Scenes, messages, conversations, among other things. Pretty much, ideas that tend to work in a smaller scope. Will there be ‘400’s? There are already a couple. Hopefully this is appreciated. Enjoy? kisses. m.
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