Flash Fiction Friday - Rock of Ages

One time the Unnamed was playing at creator, and made the up and the down and so forth, like it says in the book, and scalies in the deep blue and flutters in the sky and all legged wonders of the green growish places. Then the Unnamed put down onto the ground place a man, all alone, no one but.

Man tried to make the leggies and the flutters his friends, and they were all right for friends, but not much for speakish things, like a man might want. And he talked to the rocks and they only made echoes. And the Unnamed put down a woman to talk to the man, to take away the sad. But man and woman spent all their time with gruntish, gaspish frolics, no apples necessary, and the Unnamed gave up creating and sent everyone away.

---

I remember her song. When I dove over the side my comrades begged me to stay, telling me I would die, that she was a monster. Washed up naked on the pristine shore, I lay, wondering if this was death.

But she came to me and sang a song that showed me her love and desire, and we coupled there on the wet sand. She was warm and willing. There was a part of me which wished the naysayers could have been there to see how wrong they were.

Then as I spent myself she passed into the rock and left me alone, no matter how tightly I clung to her. I remember this as I hold the empty space she left. I cannot leave this place, not because of doom but because of what I remember.

Leave me now. Turn your proud ships and sail for the horizon.

---

Unlike last week, when I cheerfully used the required phrase, this week I'm going to cheerfully not use it. Cheating though that might seem, it just didn't work in either of the things I wrote, and I had to edit the second one so severely that any further shoehorning to get the phrase in would have turned it into total crap rather than just marginal crap. So I left it out. Spank me if you must, but I should warn you that I am perfectly willing to practice my wiles on anyone who tries, and most people who try to spank me wind up doing other things instead which turn out to be much more rewarding.

I don't know about the first one; the tone just happened. I started out trying to tell a fairly straightforward story about the creation of Adam and how he was miserable until he had Eve around, but things went a bit pear-shaped, as 'twere. I like the idea of a disgruntled creator getting fed up with his creations constantly fucking rather than talking, which is why He/She/It had made more than one of them in the first place. Maybe it's just me.

The second one... well, it's about sirens, I guess. Or selkies. Or both. Why is the man embracing an empty space in the rock? My theory is above. I expect to see some other, probably better, theories when I get a chance to check them all tomorrow afternoon. Yours could be among them; just go to Flash Fiction Friday headquarters and submit your particulars. Like I said, I won't be checking until later in the afternoon, so you've got time if you want me to come by and say nice things about your piece(s).

Oh, and lastly, the title... I'm sorry for that, but I couldn't help it, really.