As I leave the pebble beach behind I realize it will be advantageous to meet with Samuel. The evening sun is so welcome after ferocious non-stop rain. Reaching the summit I am rewarded by a distant view of his dwelling.

The intense silence is strange. Normally this is a place of bird song. A rumble reverberates like thunder along the cliff face. A fleeting violent tremor courses beneath my feet. Then hell visits the landscape. Beauty is replaced by desolation. My happiness is replaced by despair.

Only the fragments of a blackened chimney pot remained alongside a mud –spattered writing book.

Mike
I do have a printed copy available

Flash fiction: in response to a Friday Fictioneers photo showing a sea cliff near Devon. Posted on 27^th of Nov 2015. Photo credit: Sandra Crook.