For this week’s microfiction challenge #20: Isle of the Dead. I didn’t stick to any word count, but it’s less than 500 words.
“So, where do we put them?”
“What?”
“Them, the stiffs.” The young man glanced suspiciously up at the monolithic openings in the cliff face with their smooth posts and lintels carved from a single block of stone. “Don’t tell me we’re supposed to stick ’em up there!” He jerked his chin in the direction of the dark doors.
“No,” his companion replied.
The oars splashed, rise and dip, rise and dip, the only sound in the silence of the oily sea. The young man peered into the depths of the approaching cypresses for signs of life.
“Not even any birds.”
Rise and dip, rise and dip.
“I said, not even any birds.”
“I heard.”
“Don’t talk much, do you?”
“No.”
The young man shrugged. The prow nudged…
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