The Nile Affair - A Short Story - Dangerously Genocidal


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Monday, 8 December 2014

The Nile Affair - A Short Story

In the spirit of continuing the... well, spirit of NaNoWriMo, a few of the writers from our region built a forum on which we now chat, write, offer advice AND have PROMPT SPRINT CHALLENGES! We had our first one last weekend, and it was great to get those poor, suffering and trampled creative juices flowing again. It also inspired several ideas!

Here is one of my sprint results - a short flash fiction based on the prompt - A Red Feather Boa, An Empty Pack of Cigarettes and A Passport. It might be expanded into a full short story later, it might not. Either way, please let me know what you think in the comments below!

The Nile Affair

She stared across the water, watching it lap at the sides of the moving boat. The sun was setting, and it truly made for a beautiful sight. Andrea was just happy that she could enjoy it. The first day of the cruise she had spent most of her time inside her cabin, fighting motion sickness. The sight of the sun disappearing over the horizon, tinting the water just so, almost made the whole trip worth it. 

She didn't understand why she had to join her fiancée in Egypt. Why he was digging around in the sands for ancient relics when they had everything they needed back home in good old England? It made no sense to her.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” 

She looked over as one of the gentlemen on the cruise approached her. He was some sort of writer, a free thinker – the progressive sort. John something-or-other if she remembered correctly. There were twenty people on the cruise in all, various characters from different walks of life. But of all of them, only this man seemed to constantly seek her out. Well, aside from the annoying Madame Genderie. She was one of those annoying old biddies who considered everyone else’s business her own. Kept wanting to hear about Andrea's life – hers and everyone else’s.

“Yes it is.” She finally answered him. Wouldn't hurt to be polite.

He wasn't altogether a bad looking fellow – handsome in a rugged sort of way. Her Jim was also quite handsome, but he had softer features despite what he did for a living. Andrea found herself thinking it should probably have been the other way around.

She moved her boa out of the way to get to her little shoulder bag and the cigarettes within. She had dressed for the sunset drinks that would be served shortly – a fancy affair despite the informality of of the occasion – but had wandered outside instead of socializing. After a few moments of digging she finally found the packet, but when she opened it she discovered that there were none left. She must have been too distracted to notice.

“Please, have one of mine.”

A hand appeared, holding out a small silver case containing hand rolled cigarettes. She looked up at John, and couldn't help smiling. Despite everything – and despite appearing to be quite rude when certain topics were broached – he was capable of being something of a gentleman.

“Thank you.” She smiled, taking one and leaning closer as he lit it for her. There was silence for a few minutes as he lit one for himself.

“So, you’ll be joining your fiancée soon. Are you excited?”

She sighed. “I suppose I should be. I just don’t understand why he’s out here.”

He laughed. “Not one for history?”

“I don’t mind history.” She said, a little annoyed. “I just prefer to enjoy it in the museums back home.”

“Then you don’t enjoy adventure much. Had you pegged as a conservative sort. How mundane.” He said again, leaning on the rail.

“Excuse me?” and he was back to being rude, it seemed. “I am not the conservative sort, and I like adventure as much as the next person! I certainly am NOT mundane!”

He chuckled again. “Ah, there’s fire in her yet!”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Certainly not. I just wanted to see if there was some life in you, and that you weren't just another of the sheep following everyone else around.”

“I’ll have you know that I am quite lively and fun when I want to be! I am very much my own person.” she said angrily, poking him in the chest. It was not a very ladylike thing to do, but somehow he managed to bring out the worst behaviour in her every time they spoke. He easily managed to drive her up a wall repeatedly.

She started as he grabbed her hand. “Then why are you following some man around when you clearly don’t want to?” he asked. His hand held firm, and she couldn't pull her hand away despite trying.

“Let me go.” She hissed.

“Answer my question.”

“Because I love him.”

“If you loved him, you wouldn't be complaining about joining him. You would be excited at the prospect.”

“Not necessarily. But because I love him I will join him anyway.”

“No, you won’t.” he said after watching her for a minute.

“Oh really?” she asked, wanting nothing more than to slap him now. “And how would you know?”

He stepped closer and smiled at her. “Because you’re still holding my hand.”

With shock she realized that he had stopped gripping her hand some time ago, and she had not removed her hand from his. She quickly drew it away, holding it to her chest as if she had burned it.

“I don’t like what you are implying, sir, and I would appreciate it if you would move away.”

Instead of moving away from her he stepped closer, and trapped her against the rail with his arms.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you want me to move away. Tell me you don’t want to speak to me again. Tell me, and if I believe it, I’ll leave.”

“Move away. I don’t want to speak to you again.” She said.

He smiled.

When she went through her purse the next morning she realised she had left her passport in his room the night before. She never did get to Egypt.


  1. Replies
    1. Thank you very much Russ, I'm glad that you enjoyed it!

  2. Waaa! Fascinating. I never did get a chance to see the results of the boa sprint but I'm glad it turned out so well.
    Good job.!

  3. Yes, great story. Could picture it perfectly.


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