Skipping Stones

Mitch stood looking at the lake, thinking back to visiting it as a child. It had been years sense he came to the lake, the last time was during the family reunion over fifteen years ago. He thought about his dad. The sense of loss was nearly overwhelming. Mitch’s memories went to when he was six, his dad teaching him to skip stones. Mitch could never get more then five skips. Dad could always get seven, eight, or more.

Mitch wiped his eye, picked up a stone and threw it. Plop, plop, plop it skipped three times. He took another stone, tossed it, three again. He looked over the stones around him, picked one up, tossed it aside, then another, and another. Finally he finds the perfect stone.

Mitch threw the stone as hard as he could. Plop, one, plop, two, plop, three, plop, four, plop five- A hand came out from the water grabbing the stone, it gripped the stone with green slimy skin and webbed hands. The creature leaped up out of the water, what few features Mitch could see was green slimy scaly skin, fish like lips. The rest were obscured by the water splashing up. The creature threw the stone. Skip one, skip, two, skip, three, skip, four, skip five and the stone hit Mitch in the crotch.

Mitch doubled over in pain. “Ah God!” he yelled. He looked at the lake, the creature was gone, the water rippled as it swam away under the surface. Forcing himself to stand up straight, “Dad always said something lived in the lake.” Mitch said to himself.