That Fated Voyage. The power of a dream.

posted in: News, Writing | 2

As I said last week, I’ve actually published over 200 articles on Medium now. The milestone crept up on me when I wasn’t paying attention.

A lot of them have been based on prompts that I’ve found in various publications. They have been either a word or a picture, designed to set an author’s imagination going.

I’m a bit busy, with little time to write new content. I thought I’d show you a couple of my favourites.

This short story is based on a picture prompt from April this year. Thanks to Lodestar Gazette and CJ Coop for the idea.



Edgar Albuth awoke, and for a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Then it came to him: he was crossing the Atlantic on a brand new steamship. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he noticed that the ever-present hum of the engines seemed to have stopped. He recalled that the Captain had mentioned fog and ice at dinner; perhaps he was taking precautions with his new command.

Edgar swung his feet out of the bunk, nature called. He had enjoyed several drinks before retiring, his bladder now protested. Instead of the carpet he had been expecting, his feet plunged into ice-cold water.

There must be a leak in the water pipes in his bathroom. It was a new ship; there were bound to be teething problems.

Even though it was the middle of the night, Edgar decided that he should tell someone about it.

Wide awake now, Edgar dressed quickly and left his cabin. There, he discovered that water was also present in the alleyway. It seemed deeper as he ventured towards the bow. There must be a bigger problem than just a leak in his cabin. But what could affect this leviathan of the seas?

Forgetting his impatient bladder, he made his way through ankle-deep water to the main stairway and climbed up a deck. Leaving the accommodations, he walked out onto the promenade deck. It was crowded. Edgar found a young and harassed officer.

“What’s going on?” he inquired.

“We’ve struck an iceberg,” the officer said. There’s nothing to be done; the vessel will founder. Will you please go to your lifeboat station and prepare to disembark?”

There was a piercing whistle. Edgar looked up. Steam was issuing from all five of the vessel’s huge funnels. The cry of “Embark lifeboats” echoed around the deck. The officer looked at Edgar. ” May God have mercy on us,” he said, fear in his eyes.

The ship lurched.

Edgar stretched. He had woken from the strangest dream. He had been on a ship, and it was sinking. The last thing he remembered was going to his lifeboat station and seeing many of the ship’s boats already below him on the water.

Was it an omen, or just a nightmare brought on by a bad oyster, he wondered, as he got up and dressed. In his mind, he could hear his grandmother. She would have said it was a warning against travelling on the ship that day.

She had set a great store on such things as the power of dreams; of fate and the subconscious.

Perhaps he should postpone his crossing. He could wire the New York office, explain and get a later ship.

Before he did, he decided to take a look at the vessel he intended to board. If it was the same as the one in his dream, he would take it as a warning and cancel his passage.

It was but a short walk to the terminal, Edgar strolled in the spring sunshine. When he glimpsed the hull, he knew that his dream meant nothing. He was certain that he was perfectly safe and should proceed.

In reality, his intended ship was nothing like the one he had dreamed of.

For one thing, Titanic had only four funnels, not five.

I hope you enjoyed that.

Find the others in this short series here.

If you subscribe to Medium, you can find me, and the rest of my stories, here.


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