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SHORT STORY BY
Clint Wastling Welcome to Filey!
The candy striped beach hut had a large sign
outside advertising tarot readings and crystal
ball gazing. Inside it was crammed with deep
coloured damasks draped over the table and tacked onto the walls.
Sue Lozynskyj From the Chimney
I’m watching that man down there.
he’s using the tips of his wings
“Hello, Andrew, you are here for your reading.”
“Yes, please. I thought I’d get in before the tourist hordes return. I’ve always
wanted my fortune told but never dared.”
The fortune teller gestured for him to sit then warmed her hands before
placing them over the crystal ball. She made a few muttering sounds
before sitting bolt upright, eyes wide open. She remained like that for
some time. “It has returned!” She exclaimed whilst wiping her brow with a
lace edged handkerchief. “You’ll be famous but not until a couple of years
after you die when the truth comes out!”
“What has returned?” asked Andrew
The fortune teller refused to say. “I’d stay away from the Brigg, if I were
you,” she warned as he reached the door. Andrew shrugged his shoulders.
Filey Brigg was a place he loved. If the tide was right he’d walk his bulldog
Bernie there most days.
The following morning, after a disturbed night, he got out early despite
the foggy dawn. When he reached the sea he heard the plaintive foghorn
and saw the lights of returning fishing boats eclipsed by the rising sun.
After checking the tide times on his mobile he began his walk along the
Brigg, pleased that at this hour he would have the place to himself. A deep
guttural bark startled both man and dog. A large seal slipped into the sea,
honking noisily, obviously angry at being disturbed. Andrew felt his heart
He is balancing his whole meal
on one palm, and grasping
chips from the paper
Then filling his beak with them
over and over again.
Not for him the swoop
and squabble for one scrap
of dirty bread gulped down
before the neighbours snatch it.
I’m on the air, circle him.
his wing sweeps back then flaps up,
a chip leaves his fingers
and arcs to where I will be
when my beak grips it.
Sue Lozynskyj’s work explores motives and celebrates
connections between people and their environments.
A retired Midwife, she‘s working on her first collection.
He loved this place; to be able to walk a mile out to sea when it was calm
always gave him great satisfaction. Without warning a huge shadow
loomed over Andrew, which emerged as a long slender neck, head, baleful
eyes and sharp teeth. A sea monster! He hurriedly followed his dog to
higher ground. Andrew couldn’t believe his eyes; he could hardly breathe
but managed to video the strange creature. The last sighting had been
reported in the 1930’s by a coastguard.
Later that morning, the body of a man was found on the Brigg. Forensic
Investigator Ruth Edwards took a deep breath and pulled back the
tarpaulin. Her gloved hands unpeeled the victim’s fingers to release his
mobile phone. She unlocked it then watched Andrew’s video. She was
captivated by the shape emerging from the mist, it’s long neck, small
head and sharp teeth quickly turning on its victim, she needed to turn the
volume to supress Andrew’s screams. Checking nobody was watching her
she copied the evidence to her phone.
Giving Over 125 Years Service
Despite the tragedy, Ruth took a moment to admire the Brigg. It all seemed
so beautiful: the rust coloured cliffs, blue sky breaking through the mist,
the wheeling gulls with their plaintive screech. No wonder it was a popular
• Funerals Respectfully Conducted
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Her thoughts were soon interrupted by her senior officer. “Another one?
Time to get the body off here. I trust you have destroyed any evidence?”
• Free Advice & Support
Ruth nodded. “It must have been a propeller.
He slipped on the Brigg and fell in, a local
fishing boat must have... Well it doesn’t bear
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“Quite right!” The chief inspector responded
conspiratorially. “Filey has a summer season to
consider and after a year of lockdown the last
thing they need is a hungry sea monster!”
Tel: 01482 844695
Clint Wastling is the author of Tyrants Rex,
a fantasy story (Stairwell Books). His poetry
collection, Layers, is available from Maytree
259 Hallgate, Cottingham, East Yorkshire, HU16 4BG
Fax: 01482 843898
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